Stargate Millennium: Why We Fight
by StargateMillennium
Summary: New Spinoff: Desperate times call for desperate measures and Wolf Pack will have to question the motivations and the reasons for the motivations of the Millennium Expedition and the Stargate Program as they try to save their friends from a fate worse than death.
1. Chapter 1

"Then there was the time SG-1 got captured by the First Prime Her'ak. They were supposed to be on some covert espionage mission but they got caught and it was up to me and my best friend Coombs to save them."

Felger's mouth hadn't stopped moving for the past half hour as he ate his cake. It seemed like he had finally found someone who didn't mind hearing all his adventures with SG-1, even with him practically spilling crumbs from the cake crust all over the table, jeans, and orange T-shirt. Even the two marines guarding Soren seemed to be getting annoyed but the fierri didn't mind.

The SGC and Atlantis have taken on their share of alien allies and teammates, but they were all human in appearance. The only one that wasn't a human was the jaffa warrior Teal'c but he could still pass as human. Soren, on the other hand, would stand out from the humans like a sore thumb. Shorter, stockier, and with a head that seemed to be fused directly to its body, fierri were obviously not human. But, that didn't stop him from trying on, and fitting in, human clothing. The sweat pants fit Soren just fine, and he had picked out a black shirt and jacket to wear. He had even trimmed his beard so that it simply matted his chin, or rather where his chin would be, and cheeks rather than hang from it.

Their newest alien 'recruit' was on the other side of the mess hall table, taking his time eating his chicken. Instead of the regular knife and fork, Soren used two knives to slowly cut the chicken one strip at a time. While Felger was making a mess, Soren continued at a steady pace. He didn't even seem to be paying attention to Felger. But that didn't stop the scientist from blabbering on.

"Then there was the time me and Samantha Carter, amazing woman by the way, had to hold of an army of jaffa while trying to stop a computer virus from taking over the whole stargate network. Ba'al had the biggest fleet and it looked like the fate of the galaxy was in the balance. Me and her, man, we were a great team; I mean we were like Butch and Sundance, kicking ass, taking names…"

Soren finally stopped cutting into his chicken.

"Doctor Felger," he said in his usual deep gravelly voice. Felger looked up, wondering what the normally silent man had to say. Soren looked up. It was near impossible to figure out what the fierri was thinking or feeling since the only expression he's ever made on his face was a scowl. "Who are Butch and Sundance?"

Felger's face lit up as he prepared to describe the classic.

"Mr. Stavig," a voice called out before Jay could even start. The fierri looked up to see the old man, General William Mercer, approach the table. While the two Marines that guarded Soren stood up at attention, even Felger stood up in respect, Soren remained seated. It seemed rather rude but it didn't seem like the General cared that much. "I believe we had agreed to meet up at this time."

Soren didn't say anything, only keeping his eyes closed and facing the table

"I apologize, General Mercer," he finally said when he spoke. It was obvious he found this rather irritating. He usually had no schedule to follow, doing things at his own leisure whether that be living on his own in the wild or when he was in jail. "You said you wish to discuss my abilities."

"Indeed," Mercer replied. "I would like to get to know you a bit better before I make a decision." Soren put his knives down with a gentle clatter and leaned back in his chair.

"What do you wish to know?" he asked.

"I've been rereading the mission report about our initial encounter with you. The reports were…impressive….to say the least. And no training either." Mercer recalled the mission report to the fierri homeworld. Soren was a notorious serial killer, at least he used to be. Wolf Pack has never seen him in action but they have seen his handy work. Over sixty dead when the team arrived and that number rose over seventy afterwards. Over a third of these deaths were elite warriors of the royal guard killed while out on patrol.

"I was not officially trained," Soren corrected. "However, among the survivors were veteran soldiers, several of them elite warriors, people who trained me in their various…arts. Firearms, hand to hand combat…I simply honed the craft on the local predators. It was their hope that I and a few other survivors could be turned into weapons against Valken and continue the war."

"Interesting," Mercer replied with a friendly smile. "That being said, I would still like to evaluate you for myself either in my office or the briefing room."

Soren fell silent, his eyes closed. Him staying here was an agreement was between him, the fierri government, and the Millennium Expedition. His very presence, especially with his former occupation and the fierri's history, made things very awkward. Should they kill him as punishment for his crimes? He has been doing everything he can to redeem himself. Should they spare him for him being the sole survivor of the Genesis War? Some felt that a killer of so many should be executed for their crimes. Should they simply imprison him? Soren did possess a massive array of skills and has proven himself useful in the past; imprisoning him would be a waste of these talents. This arrangement was far from perfect. Between his reputation and the constant scowl he wears, many members of the expedition did not feel safe. Still, this seemed to be the best arrangement for all parties and Soren was grateful for it. The least he could do is abide by their wishes.

"Very well," Soren finally said. He stood up, his two guards ready to move again.

"Hey," Jay Felger called out as the alien prepared to leave. "You know, we should watch Butch and Sundance when we get the chance." Soren made no response. He only followed the General out of the mess hall. The mess hall they were in wasn't the main mess located in the central tower. It was actually a smaller hall in one of the other buildings in the city. They had to take an ark back to the central tower. They walked up to the door way and one of the guards quickly punched in their destination. The pearly white doors slid open, the briefing room on the other side. Mercer went in first, his guest and hits guards following after.

"What do you intend on doing with me then?" Soren asked.

"I agreed to allow you into our city," Mercer explained. "However, I will not tolerate dead weight. I will evaluate your abilities before I decide how best you can help us. Is that acceptable?"

Soren didn't bother answering, only giving a soft growl. Mercer took this as his way of saying 'yes'.

"Please wait here a moment," the General said, leaving the three behind to head to the control room. As he walked across, he could see Wolf Pack in the gate room waiting to depart.

"Well, Wolf Pack," Mercer announced. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as we'll ever be," Major Terra Nova announced with a wave. It felt good heading back out. She kept her arms on her P90. The stargate behind her hummed to life, the pearly white ring rumbling as the inner track began to spin. The milky white opal locked each symbol in place. She could not wait to head out to explore the galaxy once more.

-.-

The cool wind whistled through the pine forest. It was incredible that these alien pine trees could grow out of a mostly rocky ground.

"So that's two…" Flight Lieutenant Charles Martin remarked. "That's two boring planets."

"For the love of God, don't jinx it," Doctor Steven Chen remarked.

"I'm with Chen on this one," Nova, chirped. "I just got out of the infirmary last week. I actually like the quiet."

"I think he means it's the boring quiet," Corin Nevec translated. "We haven't even found an alien civilization in a while. Honestly, this planet doesn't seem anything special"

The ground was mostly mulch and grass so their footsteps made next to no noise as they made their way through the forest. Nova had decided that they had wasted enough time walking through empty wilderness. It didn't look like any of the races in the Alliance of Four Great Races had put anything here at all.

"Exactly!" Martin exclaimed, waving around his ion rifle. "I didn't come to this galaxy for a nature hike. How come we can't come across something friendly and exciting? Either everything wants to kill us or…"

Martin's voice trailed off. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes squinting ahead. He readied his rifle, as if he wasn't sure what he was looking at.

"Martin?" Nova asked. It was obvious something had caught his attention. Charles quickly shushed her. He kept his gaze, making sure he knew what he saw.

"Ror'char troopers," he muttered to his team. Nova looked ahead in the direction Martin was staring. His former role as a sniper on the Australian Royal Air Force still pays off, his keen eye picking up more than most people.

The alien warriors' black metal suits of armor had made them seem to blend into their surroundings. Large rectangular spaulders hung off their upper arms like metal shields. Their faces were covered with metal helmet and gray faceplate, green veins of energy running through the helmet as if it was powering some sort of HUD inside.

"Alright, back up slowly," Nova ordered. The troopers were still a decent distance away and they probably wouldn't hear her, but if they decide to look their direction and see movement they might notice them. There were only three of them too, but even one Ror'char trooper has proven to be a serious threat. They clearly didn't seem to be on guard, their rifles hanging from their hips like swords.

"They're walking this way," Chen growled, not liking that they had to move so slowly.

"You think they see us?" Corin asked worriedly. Even he could see the armored figures walking through the forest. And if he can see them then they could probably see him.

"Nah," Martin said, shaking his head. He could see the troopers clearly. They were talking to each other, none of them not seeming to notice anything…until one of the troopers looked their direction. The troopers called out to his comrades and pointed in the direction of the team. "Yeah," Martin immediately corrected.

"You really gotta stop jinxing it!" Nova exclaimed. "Run!"

"Hostiles!" a Ror'char trooper roared. The first energy bolt left the ion rifle with a violent electric crack. The bolt hit a nearby tree, which exploded into a plume of ash and splinters. The massive tree toppled over falling right between Martin and the rest of the team. He gave a surprised yell, stopping in his tracks right before the wood his the ground. A storm of ion bolts were flying overhead, smoke and dirt kicked up upon impact, the entire landscape covered in a cloud of dust and debris. Another bolt hit another nearby tree, the towering plant hitting the ground and kicking up a plume of dirt in Martin's face. He couldn't see where the rest of his team was past the clouds of dirt and smoke but he couldn't just stay there and wait for the Ror'char to approach. Cursing loudly, he rushed into the cloud of smoke, his hand shielding his eyes from the dirt and splinters flying through the air.

Ahead of him, Nova glanced back and realized she only saw Corin behind her.

"Martin!" she yelled in panic. "Chen!" She looked around wildly. The ion rifles had three firing modes, the last two made to maximize impact and chaos. With all the dust and dirt in the air, either of them could've been only a few meters away and she wouldn't know. She wanted to shoot in the direction of the Ror'char but feared one of them would be in her line of fire.

"Terra, we have to go!" Corin yelled as another bolt of energy flew overhead. Nova looked back one more time. She didn't want to leave Chen and Martin behind but it didn't look like she had a choice. They were lost within the chaos and going back to find them was suicide. More trees toppled over as their roots were blown out of the ground in a fiery explosion that launched wood and dirt in all directions.

The Ror'char troopers entered the cloud of dirt, weapons drawn and ready. The smoke cloud may have been too thick for the human eye to see through but the visors in their helmets could see right through it. And they saw three of the humans making a break for it. But where was the fourth?

"Sir," one of them said, pointing at the ground. The rest immediately spotted the unconscious figure that lay sprawled on the ground. The explosions had dropped a tree directly on Chen's head and there he lay, fallen behind and helpless to do anything.

"Go," one of the troopers ordered. "I'll watch this one." His two companions nodded and took off in either direction after their prey.

-.-

Martin knew he had become separated from the rest of his team. He was alone and, for all he knew, chased by the Ror'char troopers. He couldn't win in a head to head fight. Even with the ion rifle, Ror'char troopers have proven themselves to be far more dangerous than a regular Earth soldier. He found himself quickly climbing a tree, trying to get as far off the ground as possible. He vanished among the leaves. He could feel the random twigs poking him through his clothes but it was something he could take. Once on a sturdy branch near the top, he carefully lay back, distributing his weight the best he could, and aimed down the V-notch sight on the ion rifle. He was an Australian Royal Air Force sniper and used to love hunting. Trees made great sniper's nest and, hopefully, he could snipe the troopers as they ran under him.

Sure enough, the alien warrior came charging out of the brush, stopping just for a moment and raising his rifle raised to search for his target. That human seemed to have mysteriously vanished. The trooper had come a complete stop and was in the optimal position.

It was now or never. Martin trained his rifle onto the trooper. He was just about to pull the trigger when the trooper suddenly walked up to the base of the tree that he sat in.

"Bugger me," Martin grumbled irritably. He hadn't tried to cover his tracks and the trooper could see the trail in the broken underbrush. The trooper followed the clear cut trail with his eyes to the base of the tree, where it stopped. The trooper didn't even bother looking up, immediately putting together what had happened. Directly below the tree, the trooper was not in a good place to be shot. Still, Martin had no choice. He adjusted the dial to maximum yield.

The Ror'char trooper held his rifle with his left hand as his right hand flew to his waist and gripped the metal handle of his buzz blade. With the push of a button, the handle tripled in length and he whipped the handle out, the blade extending out of the handle and turning it into a sword, slicing through the tree as it was drawn.

Martin gave a startled cry as the wood began to cave in to the weight. He managed to fire a single blind shot at the ground at the trooper. The bolt hit the dirt, a pressure wave of flame erupting from the impact. The trooper yelled in shock as the explosion knocked him back, wood instantly disintegrating into splinter and ash. The three had already had a decent chunk cut out by the sword and the explosion from the ion rifle finished the job. Charles gripped the tree branch that he sat upon, yelling panic as the tree base finally gave in and he was sent tumbling to the ground. He hit the dirt with a loud 'oof' as the tree toppled over.

It felt as if the world had been put on the spin cycle. He was lucky he wasn't smashed in the head on the way down, but Martin could still feel the whiplash. He groaned and sat up, looking for the enemy trooper. He had lost his ion rifle in the fall and it was nowhere in sight. Luckily, so was the trooper.

His relief was short lived. The crunch of leaves came from the leaves of the fallen tree. Twigs snapped as a black figure emerged from the underbrush. Martin felt his heart drop when he realized that the Ror'char trooper had survived. The trooper looked at his smashed ion rifle, which had been crushed under a nearby tree. He reached down and picked his sword out of the grass, its edge slicing through every blade of grass at a mere touch.

"You gotta be kidding me," Martin yelled in frustration, his hand yanking his Beretta from its holster. The trooper gave a yell, a battle cry that echoed through the forest, gripping the sword with both his hands. Martin aimed his pistol and began pulling the trigger as fast as possible.

"Please die, PLEASE DIE!" he yelled desperately, emptying a magazine into the trooper, who had to slowly wade his way through the branches in his way. Martin ran a few paces back as he reloaded before opening fire again and emptying a second magazine. "For the love of God, die!" Martin knew running would only bring him back to square one with the trooper running after him. He had to end it there and then. "Why won't you die?!"

The trooper gave a final hack as he cut through the last of the branches separating him from his opponent. Martin reloaded his third mag and had begun firing as the trooper gave another battle cry and rushed at him.

-.-

Nova had reached the stargate with Corin in tow. She glanced behind her, hoping Martin or Chen would be behind them.

"Get back to Millennium," Nova ordered, prepping your gun. "I'm going back for them."

"Terra," Corin argued, grabbing her by the shoulder. It was just a few missions ago they were in a similar situation, half the team missing and the question of whether or not they should go back. He couldn't believe it was happening again.

"Go!" Terra ordered again, shoving his hand off. "You don't have much time."

"Correction," a voice boomed. Nova shoved Corin behind her as a massive figure stepped from behind the stargate. "You are actually out of time."

Nova recognized the race of the figure that stepped out. With its massive figure and four eyes, Nova knew she was looking at an antenok. The only other time she had ever seen an antenok was on the planet Elora, and he was covered head to toe in armor. She could finally see his brown leather-like skin on his face. What little hair grew out of his skin, which almost looked like that on an rhino, was pale white hair was hardly noticeable.

Unlike the humans or the sireen, which had been left by the Ancients and the Asgard respectively, the antenok evolved naturally in this galaxy. It was as if a rhino and a triceratops decided to have a child and that child decided to take on a humanoid appearance. This was the result: a seven foot tall, four-eyed figure with arms so thick it looked like he had thighs coming out of his shoulders. All four eyes looked reptilian but his skin was leathery.

Nova took aim at the antenok, unfazed by his presence.

"Put that down," he said in mild irritation, his voice full of authority and pride. "We both know your weapon is ineffective against Ror'char armor."

"Your face isn't armored," Nova pointed out, her iron sight aimed right at it. The antenok bobbed his head to the side, as if he was silently acknowledging her point.

"True," he said. "But my skill is still greater than yours. I will put a prong into your chest before you can pull that trigger." Nova noticed his hand floating over his holstered carnifex pistol, an absurdly large black revolver-shaped handgun that could put a thirty centimeter prong into a target using a modified Asgard transporter to store the ammo.

Nova looked at the antenok. He wore and Overlord's uniform, the black armor underneath an even darker long coat, the shield-like spaulders attached to the outside of the coat instead of the inside, a peaked officer's cap resting on his head. In the past, they had gone against Ror'char troopers and 'won' only because of some severe tactical advantages. This was the first time they had actually gone head to head on an even playing field and they got annihilated.

Nova gave a sigh and lowered her weapon, gently putting the gun on the ground and raising her hands. The antenok smiled and walked forward, picking her gun off the ground. She looked at Corin almost apologetically.

It was over…

Stargate Millennium

Nova could not help but wonder what became of the rest of her team. She surrendered but she could only pray Chen and Martin were not shot on sight. Corin was taken away and she had no idea what became of him. She was stripped of her uniform and equipment and given a white jumpsuit to wear instead. She shouldn't be surprised by this considering the SGC often gave prisoners blue uniforms to wear to make sure there were no hidden weapons.

She didn't remember what planet she was taken to, only that upon arrival, the Ror'char troopers handed her off to some Black Watch guards, the militant enforcers of their society. While the Ror'char troopers wore elaborate body armor, the Black Watch's armor was more similar to modern ballistic armor that could be seen in Special Forces with gray helmets that concealed their faces. Their pulse rifles were not as advanced or dangerous as the ion rifles but they get the job done. Black Watch took her with a bow, escorting her onto a small transport bus. Nova was honestly surprised by her treatment thus far. She had expected the Ror'char to be absolutely horrid to her. But, aside from a firm hand on her shoulder to occasionally tell her which direction to go, they were quite gentle.

She was in for a bigger surprise when she reached the 'prison'. She was waiting for the worst, waiting for some hell hole where she would be tortured for information. They did already say they will extract everything she knew. She was confident this was the case as she approached a wall guarded by over a dozen Black Watch snipers. But as the transport drove into the prison she was greeted by a rather awe inspiring sight. The walls were high and heavily guarded but the grounds were clean and well furnished. The floor and walls were made of some sort of concrete brick but it looked a recreation of a medieval castle. Her cell was equally surprising, well-lit and well furnished. There was a nice carpet on the floor and the bed looked quite comfortable. It even came with a desk and chair.

"In," the Black Watch guard grunted. Nova stepped in and watched as the guard closed the cell door and locked it with a click.

Nova remembered the horror stories of Goa'uld and Wraith holding cells and what they do to prisoners. This was…unexpected.

As she stepped into her new home for the next who-know-how-long, she noticed a metal plaque on the back wall, engraved into the stone so it couldn't be taken off and used as a weapon. As she approached, she quietly read the plaque to herself:

"For honor in service, for valor in battle…"

-.-

Nova was technically a prisoner of war, something the Ror'char military honored. Corin, on the other hand, was a traitor. Corin was still skeptical of his civil treatment as the Ror'char troopers led him into a cold cement cell. They were fairly gentle, only making sure he obeyed their commands.

"Sit," one of the troopers ordered, pointing at the empty chair at the center of the room. Corin reluctantly sat down, knowing he didn't really have any other choice. The two troopers went to their positions by the door, their weapons on their hips ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. The only light in the room was directly above his head and everything else was hidden in shadows. He glanced at the tiny window in the door, hoping to see what was happening outside.

"Overlord," someone outside greeted. "I'm glad you came."

"The meeting took longer than anticipated," a second voice said. "Why is it you called me here, Overlord Azoth?"

"I hear this one's an old friend of yours. He might be able to help you with your latest assignment."

Corin heard the door behind him open and someone walk in. There was a pause as the second person thought about the situation before him.

"I'll talk to him in private."

Corin's eyes widened, a flood of pain and anger streaming through his body as he held back the tears in his eyes. He knew that voice. He knew it too well. He watched as the shadowy figure stepped in front of him and into the light.

"Good to see you again, Professor Nevec."

It took Corin all his self-control to not leap out of the chair and attack Overlord Exodan Krell but he knew the Ror'char troopers would stop him.

"Really funny how we keep running into each other," Corin remarked as the gray-skinned alien paced around the room.

"Not this time," Krell said flatly. "I was on assignment elsewhere. The Azoth thought you could be of help and called for me." Corin didn't say anything, not even looking at Krell's face. Corin had left Andrea's locket on his dresser since he was always afraid of losing it on a mission. But, even without the picture he could still see her face as if she was standing in front of him. But it was just him remembering. He didn't want to remember. He wanted to see her face, to run his fingers through her hair. He wanted a chance to talk to her, to see her smile. He wanted her back.

"I'll never help you," he said stubbornly.

"You may want to," Krell remarked pacing around the chair. "A man of unbreakable morals like you…even stories of wrongdoing will convince you to take action."

"And what wrongdoings are you trying to stop?" Corin barked. Krell gave a bored sigh. This was feeling less like an interrogation and more like a daycare.

"You see, after the annexation of Elora, I was assigned to exterminate the slavers in the area."

"Slavers," Corin mocked. "I'd thought you'd be busy with the civil war."

Krell's face almost lit up as he realized that Corin was still oblivious. The Ror'char Sovereignty had told its citizens a lot of lies for their own good and Corin hadn't even heard the latest news.

"The civil war is over, Professor," Krell explained. Corin's head whipped up upon hearing this.

"That's not possible," he said. "That was a war that encompassed this galaxy."

Krell gave a slight chuckle.

"Perhaps we may have exaggerated the scope of the war," Krell stated, walking up to Corin. "You teach history, Professor. Perhaps you are familiar with this story. Long ago, the Ror'char came from their home galaxy and brought the blueprints for creating a utopia. They started it and left so we can continue their work."

"I know," Corin stated impatiently. "And they brought their civil war with them. Power corrupts, Krell."

Exodan Krell paced around for a bit as if he wanted to wait until Corin was finished talking.

"The civil war did not start until after they arrived," Krell corrected. "You are correct, power can corrupt. The process of picking individuals who would use their powers, and not abuse them, was not as clean as they hoped. Unfortunately, some of the new government officials were weak. They were willing to take the power but unwilling to take the responsibility. That is how the civil war started. We had to lie and exaggerate the scope to the populace in the hopes that we could garner more support and end the war sooner. Did you never wonder why you never ran into these other Ror'char factions you taught about? But it is over. We can now resume protecting the people."

"By killing everyone who disagrees with you."

Krell could tell that Corin still hated him for killing his wife. He could not blame Professor Nevec for this but there was more he did not know. Krell had hoped that time would show Corin the reality of the universe, that time would wake him up. If time could not wake Corin up, perhaps the truth will, the truth that Exodan Krell has always wanted to leave behind. This time, the memories even made Krell hang his head in sorrow.

"Your wife always did believe in a free society, even when we were kids," Krell remarked. Corin immediately looked up, staring at Krell in confusion at this sentence. "Your wife and I grew up together, Professor."

"No, shut up, shut up!" Corin snapped, refusing to believe what he heard. In his mind this was even worse. That would mean Krell betrayed someone he knew since childhood.

"Denial changes nothing," Krell stated as he crouched in front of Corin to explain. "Your wife and I were close friends ever since we were children."

"Andrea wasn't originally a Ror'har citizen."

"She grew up in the Leerian Empire. We both did. The government rule was absolute and its officials corrupt and we both lost loved ones, friends and family, because the politicians were more concerned with fattening themselves and executed anyone who was unhappy with this. My brother starved himself to give us more food. My family was executed for disagreeing."

"Then you understand just how horrible an absolute dictatorship is," Corin said. "They killed your family. How do you still support the Ror'char after all this?"

"I'll admit I blamed the system of government for what happened. But the Ror'char showed me a strong government can protect its people so long as it is not corrupt. And I soon saw the failing of freedom as well."

"You're talking about Undora," Corin breathed. "The Leerian dictatorship was overthrown by Undora before the Ror'char took over. But Undora was a respectable democracy, a free society that gave the people the power." Krell scoffed at this comment

"That power the people had was the reason I lost my arm," Krell said as he removed the leather glove off his left hand, revealing the prosthetic underneath. "The government was more concerned with their so called 'rights', even if those rights left entire cities in flames. Rioters were branded as mere victims, the law enforcement that stopped them branded mere monsters. My building was engulfed in flames and fell down on me. It was up to my friends to remove my arm with a kitchen knife and a hammer. The Ror'char soon came and ended the chaos. It was thanks to the Ror'char I saw the cost of peace."

"You don't have to sacrifice freedom for peace!" Corin argued.

"Prove it," Krell said darkly. "Show me a nation, a sovereignty, something that has achieved the utopia we have while maintaining their so called freedoms. I've seen plenty of 'free nations' created and all of them fail. Perhaps not immediately, but they all inevitably tear themselves apart. Corrupt officials climb the ladder and soon the people will be choosing least dirty out of the lineup of scum. I wonder how many 'free nations' your friends have made in the past? And I wonder if your friends know they have unwittingly condemned those people to inevitable chaos and division. Most of all, when that 'free nation' does descend into chaos, are your friends willing to take responsibility for what happened?"

"If it descends into chaos," Corin corrected.

"Regardless, whatever 'free nations' your friends have created, if or when they descend into chaos, will your friends be willing to take the blame, say that they are partially at fault for what has happened? Or do they think they can go around the galaxy and do whatever they want without taking responsibility for their own actions?"

"If I'm a car salesman, it's not my fault if the driver crashes it."

"But they are not selling cars. They are overthrowing one government and replacing it with another. If I replace the current driver with an inept one then I am responsible for the fate of the vehicle's passengers."

"At least those 'free nations' don't regularly kill their own citizens."

"And sometimes sacrifices are made; sacrifices that weigh not only on you but the people who commit them. You are not the only one who suffers from Andrea's death. I had to kill my childhood friend."

"You betrayed her," Corin snarled. He had hated Krell for what he did to the woman he loved but to learn that he was once her friend and still killed her.

"I had to make a choice between the few and the many. You condemn me for betraying her, but I had to choose between letting her live and saving countless lives. Which is the greater evil? Betraying a loved one to save countless others? Or letting countless die for the sake of a single person you care for?"

"You mean betraying a loved one to stay in power."

"The Ror'char do not abuse their power. Yes, they may be in power but all of that power is dedicated to the people. The Ror'char do not shirk responsibility of what we've done. We're responsible for the deaths of countless and that burden weighs heavily on every trooper, but for every million sacrificed, tens of millions live in a utopia once thought to be impossible."

"So is that your excuse then? You killed her because it was your duty?"

"It was my duty…and my burden. I can't tally up the dead if I tried and I could probably fill an ocean with the tears I've forced others to shed. What you fail to understand, Professor, is that the dead and the tears are inevitable, no matter what you do. All a person of power can do is take the route that results in the least amount. That is the difference between your friends the Ror'char. We take the route that produces the best result regardless of how it sounds while your friends take the route that sounds best regardless of its results. Your friends have probably forced others to shed plenty of tears, or did they conveniently gloss over that fact?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Corin said, refusing to listen to this. He would even cover his ears of his hands were cuffed behind his back.

"I don't?" Krell asked almost mockingly. "Are you telling me you never once dreamed of a perfect world of peace and prosperity? It was the goal many have come to view as always chased but never reached. But that goal has been reached. You were once a Ror'char citizen; you know that what I say is true. You once lived in a world where the notion of locking your door or car was considered an act of paranoia, where more people have gotten struck by lightening than faced unemployment. Your only complaint was the government's demand for absolute obedience. It's not perfect but it's the closest any civilization has ever gotten. Or did were you really so naïve as to think that this perfect world could be accomplished without sacrifice?"

Corin was silent for a bit, just staring at the ground. He didn't want to acknowledge the Ror'char as anything more the monsters and tyrants.

"So want do you want?" Corin asked, changing the subject. "You wanted my help to take out some slavers? The field units are always hunting slavers. Why did they suddenly decide to hire an Overlord for this job? I still think there's more that you aren't telling me. Why now?"

Krell took a step back. Corin was right; there was one more part to the mission.

"Very well then," he said. "The whole story. With the end of the civil war, it was decided that the Ror'char temporarily hold their conquest. We would focus inward, ensure the corruption that caused the civil war never happen again. I was reassigned from the vanguard unit to help purge all corrupt elements. We have a single rule for the corrupt: they either forfeit their position or forfeit their life. A single Ror'char officer has absolute control over millions of citizens. Corruption is not tolerated. Unfortunately, two corrupt officials realized they had been caught and fled. They've taken refuge amongst some slavers, described to them our methods of operation. Now, every time we get close, every time they realize the Ror'char are coming for them, they disappear. I am now working with the overwatch unit to take out these slavers and bring the corrupt officials to justice. That is why I seek your help."

"Overwatch unit?" Corin repeated skeptically. "Why would the Ror'char be so interested in slavers? They're terrified of the Ror'char. Lands in the Ror'char Sovereignty are safe."

"Is it really so hard to believe that we aren't the villains? Even if the slavers pose no threat to us, they have kidnapped unsuspecting victims from every other sovereignty and nation in this galaxy. We will see them exterminated like the vermin they are. Help us and we will stop these slavers."

Corin looked at Krell, torn between whether or not to help. Krell was the one who killed his wife, murdered her for not agreeing with the government. They ruled with an iron fist and suppressed every freedom possible. The mere notion of even regarding him and the Ror'char as 'good guys'…

But, if they were telling the truth he would be saving hundreds of victims kidnapped by the slavers. But he would be acknowledging the Ror'char as not being pure evil.

"Are you really so blinded by hate you will not even help liberate slaves languishing in capture?" Krell asked. "Perhaps, this will help," he said, reaching into his pocket and tossing something onto the floor. His eyes suddenly widened when he realized it was a Millennium Expedition patch. Every exploration team had a patch on the shoulder of their uniform, identifying themselves as members of the Millennium Expedition and which team that person was on. Somehow Krell had gotten a torn patch.

"Where'd you get that?" Corin asked suspiciously.

"We found it during our latest raid against a slaver camp. This was found in one of the tents."

Corin felt a chill go down his spine. One of the exploration teams had gone missing and were nowhere to be found. He could only imagine the horror of being kidnapped by the slavers.

"Why are you so eager to help?" Corin asked again. Krell felt his irritation rise like boiling water. It was the same question and the same answer; Corin just refused to accept the answer.

"The slavers will pay for the suffering they've caused," Krell replied darkly, his voice turning into a soft hiss. "Hundreds taken from their friends and family and put into a life of servitude; even if they are not Ror'char citizens they are still innocent people who just so happen to be living under a defective government. The slavers will pay for their transgressions in blood. I guess I shall present to you this deal. Help us slay these monsters, and I shall let you and the team we rescue permission to return to Millennium."

-.-

"Twenty two…twenty three…twenty four…twenty five…"

Nova remembered hoping what she was going through was a nightmare. The next morning, she expected to wake up in her bed on Millennium. Instead, the familiar stone walls of the prison cell was all she saw. The thing about prison, there's absolutely nothing to do. She was already bored out of her skull and it seemed like keeping herself in shape was the only thing left to do. She had her feet on her bed as she did pushups off the floor, her body becoming parallel to the ground every time she went up.

"Twenty five," she said as she went back down before pushing herself back up. She felt a bead of sweat drop from her forehead and hit the back of her hand. She was about to go down again when a clank at her cell door caught her attention. She looked up and standing in front of the bars was a Ror'char trooper. Not a Black Watch guard but a Ror'char trooper.

"Major Terra Nova," the trooper greeted. "Your presence is requested." Nova took her feet off the bed and stood up. The trooper wasn't carrying an ion rifle, only a carnifex pistol and buzz blade at his side. She gave a sigh. Guess this was it. She figured she would be tortured for information eventually. There was a clank as the door slid open, the trooper stepping in. He looked at her with a sideways glance. She was covered in a fair amount of sweat and he did just see what she was doing.

"Do you wish to take a shower before we depart?" the trooper asked. Terra's jaw dropped. That was not the question she was expecting.

-.-

As time passed her confusion continued growing. She decided to take the trooper's offer of a shower. She was even more surprised when the trooper gave back her uniform, all washed and folded. It was a little weird having the alien soldier just walk in on her mid-shower to tell her this but he did it and promptly left without much of a reaction. Once she was done, dried, dressed, and had her ponytail back up, she had to be blindfolded and led outside. The trooper kept his hand on her shoulder and guided her through the courtyard. She couldn't see what was happening but she could hear the voices of the people around her. At first she could hear the voices of the other prisoners whispering to each other. Then she could hear the commands of Black Watch discussing things about the prison. Finally, the trooper had her stop and all she could hear was silence.

She had actually begin to wonder whether this was actually an execution. It made sense. They blindfolded her and took her to some remote location. Guess all that was left was to wait for the bang. She gave a saddened sigh. Just a few missions ago she found new reason to live and now it seemed like she was going to get put down immediately after.

Then, another noise filled the air, a deep droning noise, a machine powering up, stone grinding against stone, the hum of energy coursing through their power cells. It was the sound of the stargate. She heard the whoosh of the wormhole forming in the silver ring. She could even see some of the blue glow penetrate her blindfold.

The trooper put his hands back on her shoulder and directed her to walk forward.

"Watch your step," he said as she soon felt her face touch the edge of the wormhole. She stepped in, letting the void consume her. She felt the warmth of the cold nothing fill her body. It felt like she was being sent flying at breakneck speeds through the universe, her body being tossed about like it was on a rollercoaster with no seat.

She took a breath as she stepped out the other side, her foot touching the ground. The trooper still kept his hand on her shoulder as they both stepped out of the giant puddle. She heard the familiar whoosh as the gate shut off. Nova still had no idea what was going on but she felt the trooper take his hand off her back and begin fumbling with the blindfold. As the black cloth came off she had to shield her eyes from the sudden input of light.

She raised her hand to shield her eyes as they adjusted. As she stepped onto the gravel as her eyes fell upon the military base she has been brought to. Several smaller gray buildings dotted the landscape like houses and garages while a single larger building stood at the center. Several troopers marched about the base. The ones on patrol kept their armor but others only had a black uniform on, taking routine jogs around the base. But there were also other workers, not troopers, who wandered about, papers in hand. In the distance she could see a group of Ror'char trooper, all dressed in a white training uniform, practicing their sword techniques. They all swung their wooden training weapons in unison, giving a yell with each swing. Nova didn't know anything about swordplay but seeing the entire group swing and move as one was stunning.

It seemed so strange seeing these alien warriors like this. The only times she's ever seen a Ror'char was in the field so it was odd seeing them otherwise, seeing them walk around and mind their own business. Many of them didn't even keep their helmets on, revealing the faces of dozens of different races. Humans, sireen, icthyan, antenok, even races she's never seen before. They all worked together.

"Come," the trooper grunted, once again putting his hand on Nova's shoulder. He directed her into the big building at the center. The structure had some nice air conditioning; the cold air felt good on her skin after stepping out of the sun. Her eyes adjusted to the new light but the trooper continued directing her down the hall. Nova didn't know where she was being led. She couldn't see through any of the doors in the hallway but was led to the end of the hall. The trooper opened the door, revealing the large auditorium within.

She stepped into the large chamber, her boot stepping onto the soft red carpet that sagged beneath her feet. She looked around the room, looking at each of the sky-blue seats. This was an auditorium built for several dozen people. Perhaps it was a briefing room of sorts where a general would stand at the front and brief the troops on upcoming battle plans. It was then she noticed someone at the front of the auditorium on the stage.

She would swear her heart stopped, her eyes blinking several times to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. She thought she had led him to his death but here he was standing before her.

"Corin!" she called out. The man at the front stopped his pacing when he heard his name. He whipped around. He didn't know what the Ror'char did with prisoners of war but, considering their reputation, he expected the worst. The Ror'char executed citizens who question the government so he expected Nova to be tortured or even executed. He was relieved to see she was alive.

He leapt off the stage and bolted up the stairs. The trooper let go of Nova and stepped to the side, knowing what was about to happen. Corin practically tackled her but she remained standing as they wrapped their arms around the other.

"You ok?" she asked him, pulling away. Corin's talked about how the Ror'char execute those who dare to question their rule. Corin not only questioned the Ror'char but had even left the Empire and joined a rogue group, their enemy. He was a traitor. She was just as scared for him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said dismissively.

"Corin," Nova said. "I'm sorry. What happened back there, sorry for-"

"It's fine," Corin said. "It was probably the only way to save Steve and Charles." It was at this moment they saw a spark of hope in the other's eye. "Steve, Charles?" Corin asked, hoping that she might have the answer.

"I haven't seen them," Nova said with a shake of her head. She had begun to think that there was no chance she'd ever see them again but her hope has been renewed. "What's going on? Why'd they bring us here?"

Corin thought back to what Krell told him. He knew why the Ror'char were gathering them. Corin hadn't given them a yes or no. He did not even want to entertain the idea of helping the Ror'char. But if the Ror'char were sincere about stopping the slavers, could he really turn away the idea? And he knew this was an opportunity to save his friends.

"I'm sorry, Andrea," Corin muttered under his breath, knowing he had to help his wife's killers.

Nova looked up when she heard heavy footsteps on the stage. She watched as Krell stepped out, his black uniform standing out against the brightly lit yellow background. The flaps of his long coat dangled behind him, his hands in his pockets. Across from him was the antenok she faced earlier, the towering beast standing beside his comrade.

"You know," Nova remarked upon seeing Krell. "I really have to wonder how many Overlords the Ror'char Space Force even has. How come we keep running into you?"

"I'll admit our first three encounters was though chance," Krell remarked calmly. "However, this time I was called forth by Overlord Azoth." Azoth gave a bow on cue. He was the one who found and captured Wolf Pack. They both looked at the Ror'char trooper standing at the back.

"Do you know what the status is on the others?" Krell asked.

"One is currently being treated in our medical facility," the trooper said. "The other is arriving by ship as we speak."

"Well, I suggest we meet our esteemed guests," Azoth remarked. "Shall we?" He cheerfully strolled out of the room. Corin followed with the trooper close behind. Krell would have followed but noticed Nova had not moved from her spot.

"Major," he said. "Is there something you would like to say?"

Nova kept her eyes on Krell. She still felt that she betrayed Corin by surrendering him back into the hands of the Ror'char. But…

"Thank you," she said to him. "I know what you do to traitors, so thank you for not punishing Corin. And honestly, my treatment was pretty hospitable."

"It's not me who you wish to thank then," Krell replied. "It's obvious what type of people you are; it's a pity we have to be on opposite sides."

"No offense, but our people aren't big fans of conquerors," Terra remarked bluntly, leaning back against the wall behind her with her hands folded over her chest.

"The word 'conqueror' comes with negative connotations," Exodan remarked. "Unless you're saying that your people have never overthrown any governments in your history." He watched Nova tense uncomfortably. He got his answer from this reaction. "Why it is acceptable for your people to overthrow governments but when we do it, we are labeled 'conquerors'?"

"You don't know anything about what we've done?" Nova barked. Krell raised a curious eyebrow at this statement. He had seen the same thing repeat so many times he just assumed that this was the same case.

"Oh? So you have never gone out of your way to overthrow any governments or regimes, reform civilizations you saw as unfit?"

Terra fell silent once more.

"That's different," she replied flatly. "The Goa'uld were tyrants that enslaved countless people."

"I see. In other words, they were unfit and caused meaningless suffering; so you overthrew them and replaced their method of rule with one you saw as better. How very Ror'char of you…"

"There's a difference," Nova spoke up before Krell could leave. "The 'what' is as important as the 'why'. You are replacing the governments with dictatorships."

"We've managed to create a utopia that people can only dream of. A world with next to no poverty or crime, a world without bigotry or corruption, without famine or depression, such a world used to be only a fantasy and we have achieved that!"

"Even if I were to believe you managed this-"

"Why wouldn't you? Professor Nevec has been with you for a while now. Has he ever complained about our poverty levels? Or our corruption? Or our crime rates? Or is his only complaint our iron grip on society?"

Nova fell silent for a moment. He was right; Corin has only ever complained about the Ror'char rule.

"Ok, let's say I believe you; it's not worth it. You control every aspect of their life and control how they think."

"As if your so called 'free societies' don't do the same," Krell scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. "All your beliefs and your reasons for holding that belief were fed to you. They say history is written by the victors. Well, morality is written by the strong. Their belief filtered down and taught to you. You accept their truths as the pinnacle of good and open mindedness. And if you dare to challenge those beliefs, you are blacklisted. You are ignorant, narrow minded, evil. You become a societal pariah. Those who don't submit are punished in their own ways. Even in your 'free society', how you think is still controlled; you just don't realize it. You're not free, just oblivious."

"But they still aren't dead. You hunt down the people who disagree and kill them."

"Such disagreement will give rise to violence. The solution to cancer is to remove the infected cells."

"It's not worth it! You can quell violence but you can't bring back the dead. Your solution is not worth the price."

"How interesting. Tell me then, what is worth it then?"

"Excuse me?" Nova asked.

"I don't know where you hail from but if you had the ability to grant your entire planet eternal peace and prosperity for everyone, how much will you be willing to sacrifice? How many lives and how many basic rights would you be willing to sacrifice before saying it is not worth the price? What is the limit?"

Nova felt her lips quiver. She wanted to answer, to shut Krell up and prove her point, but she didn't know what to say.

"I look forward to your answer, Major," Krell said, leaving the auditorium, leaving Nova trying to think of an argument in response. Even if she did think of one, she was still technically their prisoner so she followed him out.

-.-

Even before she got outside she could hear a loud hum coming from something outside the building. She opened the doors and stepped out, immediately feeling the wind on her face. It wasn't a strong gust like standing under a helicopter but was definitely a decently strong breeze. Everyone outside was looking up and she immediately saw why. Above them, a Ror'char stryker had begun to descend. The stryker's wings retracted into its body, the ship coming ever closer to the ground. The bottom of the ship began to retract, a perfect circle forming in the bottom. There was a loud buzz as a set of silver rings descended out of the hole, the rings stopping a few feet above the ground. With a bright flash of light, a group of people appeared inside. The rings rose back up into the ship, which proceeded to fly off into the distance, the howling winds dying away.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," a familiar voice called out. "Miss me, assholes?"

"Charles!" Corin and Nova called out in unison as the Australian stepped out from the pair of troopers behind him. He held his arms in the air like a celebrity walking down the red carpet, his smile spanning the width of his face.

"That's three of us here," Martin observed as his two escorts walked off. "Where's Chen?"

"We'll take you to him," Krell said from behind the trio. "Trooper," he said to the alien warrior accompanying them. "Thank you for your services." The trooper gave a deep bow before turning and walking off.

"Come," Azoth called, turning and heading for another building. Krell stepped back and gave a bow to let his prisoners walk in front before following behind. They were moving around a lot but Nova didn't care. She was reunited with her family.

-.-

Chen flexed his fingers. He could still feel the metal probes jammed into his right arm but at least he finally could feel his arm in general.

"And for your final test," the Ror'char medic in front of him said. "I would like you to pick up the cup in front of you." Chen reached forward and picked up the plastic cup on the table in front of him. He looked at the doctor, an icthyan in a white lab coat. The purple fish-man wrote something on his clipboard without looking up. An amphibious race, icthyans may be humanoid but they still possess fish-like traits. They had scales on their skin, fins on their head, back, and arms, and even webbed hands and feet.

"How is our patient," a voice asked form the door. Chen turned around to see everyone standing at the door. He closed his eyes and gave a relieved sigh.

"Overlord Azoth," the doctor said, looking at his board. "I have successfully mended his broken bones." The fish-peron walked over to Chen and began plucking the metal rods out of his arm. The man gave a pained yelp every time it happened. He wanted to growl in irritation as the last rod was pulled out and he clung to his arm, but he knew that whatever those rods were for, the Ror'char used them to fix his bones. He still felt tingles up and down his arm but he could use it again without any other pain.

"Thank you, you're dismissed," Krell said, stepping back to watch as Nova and her team went up to check on their friend. The way they crowded around each other, laughed happily that the others were ok… He had to appreciate the sight. He knew how it felt, the relief in finding your loved ones ok. But he knew they had a mission.

-.-

Back in the auditorium, Nova stared at the torn up patch she held in her hand. She remembered hearing from Mercer about Team Loadstone going missing. Caldwell 70 had more advanced races so when the MALP showed what looked like an advanced civilization, Loadstone was more than eager to go check it out to make new allies. Terra knew going through the gate was always a calculated risk but the notion of getting kidnapped by slavers…

She shivered at the thought.

"Hey," Martin hissed to her, interrupting her thought.

"Sorry," she muttered, recomposing herself. Chen and Corin had chosen to stand, Chen leaning against the table near the front while Corin stood right in front of Nova, also staring at the patch.

"How long were your friends missing?" Azoth asked, his arms folded in front of him as he strolled back and forth at the front of the auditorium.

"Not long," Nova answered, handing the patch back to them. "They disappeared on a reconnaissance mission to a mission we designated PG7-G26."

Krell and Azoth cave Nova a confused look. She wished she could be more descriptive than that but they had no idea what the name of the planet was. Fortunately, Corin was already hard at work, grapping a paper and pen laying on the nearby desk and quickly scribbling something down.

"This," he said, handing them the paper that now had the gate address written on it. "It looked like a town."

"I don't recognize it," Krell said, shaking his head. He looked at his taller comrade, who gave a nod when he saw the address.

"But I do," Azoth remarked. "That's one of the registered pirate havens."

"Pirate havens?!" Chen repeated. "There are pirate havens?!"

"There are elements in this galaxy that do not devote themselves to any one leadership," Azoth explained, giving Corin the paper back. "They move from place to place and serve only themselves. These people have been widely termed as space pirates. Pirate havens are small towns that welcome such elements. It is also the perfect hunting grounds for finding unsuspecting victims."

"And is likely another slaver hangout," Krell added sternly. "My last lead went cold so this is an excellent opportunity."

"You got a plan for us?" Martin asked, leaning back in his chair.

"The chance of the Ror'char getting caught while investigating a pirate haven is high," Krell said. "However, you can go to the planet to investigate the disappearance of your friends. Find the slavers who kidnapped your friends and tell us where they are. We will both reap the rewards of the knowledge. And once this is all over, you will be set free."

Nova looked at the rest of her team. None of them seemed to have any issue with this.

"Alright," she said. "We'll do this after one more thing."

"One more thing?" Krell repeated. "And what is that?"

-.-

Wolf Pack had gone missing and the MALP was destroyed. This was already shaping to be a very irritating day for Mercer. He scanned the report Donavan gave him. They had sent another UAV to comb the planet but there was no sign of them. This meant two teams had gone missing in one week.

"General," Donavan said from his wheelchair. The General looked at this adjutant, handing the papers back.

"We will have to prepare a team to go after them," Mercer said, his hands folding behind him. "After this demonstration, I wish you to prepare the Cloud Jumpers to go to the planet to investigate. They will be accompanied by combat team Ronin for protection." The Cloud Jumpers were an exploration team that could investigate what happened to Wolf Pack but the Ronin were comprised of elite soldiers from five different countries and were made purely for combat purposes. The Ronin, Berserkers, Spartans, War Born, Paladins, these were just some of the combat teams. Once their task here was done, the Ronin would provide military support while the Cloud Jumpers try to figure out what happened.

Donavan nodded in agreement, turning his attention to the monitors in front of them. They had prepped the VR chairs for training. Soren was strapped in. For his training mission, he had to clear a building of jaffa armed with his twin axes, a shotgun, and a submachine gun. Kara Osborn was outside monitoring his vital signs. Computer technicians were busy monitoring the equipment. Mercer and Donavan watched Soren's progress through the monitor, seeing what he saw. He had to clear out fifteen jaffa from the building. And he was by himself.

With a seemingly impossible scenario like this, Soren's killer instincts kicked in. Mercer watched as Soren snuck around the complex. He would always survey a room, gathering intel on how many enemies were present and where they were. He would then burst into the room and unleash a hell storm against his foes. Shotgun, submachine gun, axes, he would light up his enemies with bullets or tear them apart with his axes if they got too close. The moment it was over, he would rush out of the room before reinforcements arrived to investigate the commotion. He did this several times, clearing rooms with frightening efficiency and disappearing like a ghost. The General was beginning to understand what made Soren such an effective killer. Planning, surprise, dynamic entry, speed, violence of action, it all came to Soren naturally. He had to kill quickly and efficiently then escape. That was exactly what he was doing here.

Soren had one last room to go with three jaffa on their guard. Soren had already scanned the room from behind a corner and planned his attack. He burst into the room but the jaffa were waiting for him. They opened fire, orange streaks of pure energy burning through the air and hitting the wall. But Soren had come prepared. He had picked up one of the staff weapons from the jaffa he killed earlier. As he burst into the room he launched the staff at the nearest jaffa like a javelin. It didn't have a sharp point to impale its target but it wasn't meant to kill, only distract and that was exactly what it did. The jaffa covered his head and leaned to the side to let the weapon fly past. One less weapon shooting at him, Soren was able to rush up and press the barrel of his shotgun against the face of that one jaffa, firing point blank into his skull. One down. Soren dove behind a table as the second volley of orange bolts streaked his way. But he had no intention of hunkering down behind cover. He put aside his shotgun and pulled out the MP5, leaping out and raining fire upon the nearest jaffa as he charged at his foe. The bullets were enough to inflict lethal damage but not enough to finish immediately. For that, Soren quickly pulled out his axe. The jaffa adjusted his grip, turning his staff from a ranged energy weapon to a melee weapon to meet Soren head on. But Soren was too skilled. It was up to the last jaffa to finish the fierri off. The final alien warrior aimed his staff weapon but Soren was already aware of this. At the last moment, he hooked his axe around his opponent's neck and flung him at the final enemy just as the staff fired, the energy bolt hitting the jaffa instead. Soren took advantage of the distraction charged at the final enemy. The jaffa had just begun to pull the trigger when Soren hooked his staff weapon with his axe and forced it to the side, the orange energy bolt flying off into a wall. He unhooked his axe and swung it into the face of his foe with enough force to pull the jaffa to the floor in a heap.

Soren stood up, scanning the room. That was the last enemy. All he had to do was wait for the simulation to end. His world faded to white as the chair ejected him back into reality.

"How're you feeling?" Kara asked with an English accent, walking up to him with the scanner in her hand. Soren didn't even bother answering her question. She shined her pen light into his eyes, making sure the pupils behaved as they should. "Awesome," she remarked, acting as if Soren had responded to her. Once again, he had no reaction.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Kara asked, finishing her scans.

"No," Soren grunted. "Though you and Steven Chen make up that difference."

"Guilty as charged," Kara replied with a slight chuckle. "If I have something to say, I just usually come out and say it."

"I know," Soren said hoarsely. "It contrasts to Steven Chen: when he has nothing to say, he'll say something anyways."

"Well, you're saying more now than you used to," she pointed out. "So we're getting somewhere." If Soren reacted to this statement, he did not make it obvious. His expression was still as stiff as before.

"Mister Stavig," Mercer said, walking up to the fierri, looking at the papers Donavan had handed to him. "Most impressive. Your training was clearly top notch."

Soren gave a nod, acknowledging what the General said.

"So what now?" the fierri asked. Mercer raised a curious eyebrow. Soren sure was eager to find out what they intended to do with him.

Donavan suddenly put his hand to his earpiece, listening to the newest update.

"General," he said. "There's something going on in the gate room."

-.-

Even with the barrier covering the gate, the blue hue from the wormhole still glimmered against the walls of the gate and control room, the familiar warble audible even in the hallways. In the control room, technicians all remained at their work stations but had stopped to stare at the thing in the middle.

"Can –can you move me to the left?" the hologram of Nova seemed to ask the air. "I'm half in a wall." The blurry hologram of Terra Nova began to flicker as it began to slide sideways, out of the computer terminals she had appeared in to the center of the control room.

"Alright, we're good," she announced. "Um…" she stuttered, looking around the room. She's never used an Asgard hologram before and this was a bad replica. The entire world looked blurred, almost like she was looking at everything through the glossy surface of a soapy bubble.

There was a hiss as the door at the back of the room opened and Mercer came walking in with Donavan right behind him.

"General," she called out as her commanding officer walked in. Mercer slowly walked up to the hologram, his arms still behind his back.

"Major," Mercer greeted back. "I hope you don't mind telling me what's going on."

-.-

Corin stared at the solid metal doors Krell and taken Nova through. He says that he was going to let her talk to Mercer to discuss the situation as long as he remained in the room to make sure she didn't reveal any information. She was a soldier; everything she does goes through her commanding officer. At least, that's what Krell claimed he was letting her do. He wouldn't be surprised if had secretly executed her.

"Ease up," Azoth said from the side of the door, standing watch like a guard. "You really think we would just kill her for no reason."

"Yes!" Corin barked immediately. Azoth raised a curious eyebrow at this sudden burst of anger.

"Jeez," he groaned. "Even if you don't like us, I would've thought you would at least be able judge us fairly." Corin didn't answer, only giving a huff and looking away. No matter how normal they seemed, he will never stop viewing them as monsters. Even if they did bring about a paradise, they still couldn't tally up the murdered if they tried.

The doors to the room suddenly opened, Krell and Nova walking out. Corin could not help but shift uncomfortably when he saw her walk out with his mortal enemy. He kept having to tell himself that they were doing this for the slaves they would be freeing, not the Ror'char.

Seeing their commanding officer walk back out, Chen and Martin came back and joined the conversation.

"What's the word, Major?" Martin asked. Nova maintained her stern expression as she explained.

"Mercer's given us the green light." She turned to face Krell and Azoth. "We agree to your terms. We will help you find your traitors and free the slaves. Once that is done, you will let us and our friends go."

"Then it is settled," Krell concluded. "We will prepare quarters for you and your friends for the night. Just be advised that you will be under constant surveillance." Krell held out his hand, waiting for Nova to make the next move. Terra stared at the outreached limb. The Milky Way had the Goa'uld, Pegasus had the wraith, Nova knew that there was a good chance the Millennium Expedition would make its own enemy but she never thought she would be working side by side with that enemy. She finally grasped the sireen's outstretched hand and gave a firm shake.

"I had hoped Elora would convince you…" Krell stated. "Perhaps this will convince you that your way is not the only way."

-.-

Day was much longer on this planet than on Earth but time eventually came. The patrols around the base still continued to march regularly workers had all gone in for the night. She was still technically the Ror'char's prisoner and her movements around the base were restricted, but she could at least take a walk outside. She wandered around the base, just looking around. Back on Earth, if she ever needed time to herself to think about what is happening, she would go into the woods near her house. On Millennium, she would simply lock herself in her woodshop. Guess she had to settle with just walking around the base here. What she didn't expect was who she would run into.

"Steven," she called out in mild surprise. Chen was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall of a building. He nearly jumped to his feet when he heard his name called. "Calm down, it's just me." Nova walked up and sat down beside him. The dirt ground wasn't the most comfortable but it worked. Bases didn't exactly put benches everywhere.

"What're you doing out here?" Chen asked.

"I usually take a walk outside when I need time to think about things," Nova explained.

"I thought you go to your woodshop."

"Either or," Nova shrugged. "And there's not exactly a woodshop here. What're you doing out here?"

Chen didn't answer, only making an awkward groaning sound as he thought about how he should respond.

"Making constellations," he mumbled.

"What?"

"I'm making constellations in the stars, alright?" he said louder. "I'm seeing if any of the stars here look like stuff." Instead of laughing, Nova actually looked curious. It seemed childish, something they hadn't done since they were kids, but she was actually interested.

"Find anything cool?"

Chen stared at her, surprised that she didn't think the whole thing was weird. He pointed in a direction in the sky. "Mason symbol," he proclaimed. Nova looked in the direction he pointed but there was one issue. "And the thing right beside it looks like a pentagram."

"Steven, I can't tell which stars you're pointing at."

Chen let his hand fall. She was right. While he can point her in a direction, she could not tell which set of stars he was specifically pointing to.

"I see a wolf though," she added, pointing in a different direction. He looked in the direction but he didn't see anything that looked like a wolf.

"You're making that up."

"No, I really see a wolf."

Chen squinted at the cluster of stars but he couldn't see a wolf.

"Of course you would see a wolf," he finally said, slumping back. Nova gave a light chuckle, also leaning back against the wall and giving a sigh.

"Bet you never thought this is how our mission would go when we stepped through the gate," she remarked.

"As a rule of thumb, I try to not assume we'll get kidnapped by aliens anytime we got on mission," Chen replied snarkily. "He doesn't hold it against you, you know."

"Who?"

"Corin. He doesn't hold it against you that you guys had to surrender."

Nova didn't answer at first, still looking at the stars, staring at the group of stars that looked like a wolf. Alpha males protected their pack, it is their responsibility as leader to make sure every member is cared for.

"He trusted us to protect him when he defected," she pointed out. "And I gave him right to them."

"And he knew the risks when agreed to join the team," Chen added. "I would say he forgives you but he doesn't see anything to forgive."

"How is he holding up then?" she asked. "Him and Martin are in our quarters, right?"

"Last I checked, he hit the bunk. The whole helping-the-guys-who-killed-my-wife thing isn't going well for him."

"He knows we're only doing it to help Loadstone and the slaves, right?"

"Oh, he knows. And that's the only reason he's doing this. His locket's still on his dresser by his bed." Chen paused for a moment before saying, "Charles is also reserved about this. He's fine with what we're doing but he doesn't like that we have to help the Ror'char to do it."

"I know the feel," Terra said, hanging her head. "Krell keeps trying to convince me that the Ror'char are the good guys." Nova fell silent for a moment but she realized they hadn't talked about his opinion yet. "What about you?" she asked.

Chen didn't want to answer at first.

"I know this isn't the most popular opinion," he finally explained. "I know Martin and Corin straight up hate it, and you are on the fence with it, but I don't problem with it." Chen could see the shock on Terra's face.

"I'm actually surprised," she said. "I thought you would the most opposed."

"Why would I?"

"Well, we are helping an absolute dictatorship," Nova pointed out. "Kara told me how much you value innocent lives. This is a government that kill innocent people for questioning the government."

"It's none of our business how the Ror'char do things. I don't approve with how they govern, but do we really have the right to go around dictating how other governments rule? We're complaining how the Ror'char want to dictate how their neighbors govern. But if we fight them because we don't like the way they govern themselves, then we're guilty of the same thing."

"What're you saying?"

"I'm saying that the only reason we even fight the Ror'char is because they are keen on attacking us. That's it. Charles thinks that it's our responsibility to overthrow the Ror'char and replace their government with a democracy but if the Ror'char ever decide to stop expanding and not attack us, do we really have the right to dictate how they govern? So no, I don't have much of an issue helping the Ror'char, especially with who we're going after."

"They say all evil needs to succeed is for good men to do nothing," Terra said. "I mean, that's the reason we overthrew the Goa'uld."

"Yeah, and that's also why the Ror'char are annexing nations. We don't have the right to go around kicking out leaders just because we don't like them. Earth is still made of a bunch of different countries, some of them ruled by less than noble individuals. We have 304's. Shall we use them to overthrow whatever countries we don't like because their leaders are bad? And if we should, why wait until we have 304's? Why didn't we just cruise-missile the crap out of them before? When are we actually stopping evil? And when are we just being arrogant?" Chen sighed and leaned his head back. Nova did the same and stared at the sky.

"I guess it doesn't matter if we like this or not," she concluded. "We have to do it if we want to get out and help our friends." She kept staring at the sky, letting her mind wander. "I see the Blue Bunny logo up there," Terra chirped up, pointing at a collection of stars.

"Ok, now I know you're making stuff up."


	2. Chapter 2

Nova checked and double checked her P90, making sure there was no sabotage. Everything was as it should be. Chen was busy prepping his HK MP7. Even their newly equipped plasma-tipped rounds seemed fine. Corin holstered his pistol without even taking a look at it. Martin, on the other hand, was impatiently tapping his foot. He got his berretta back but he usually carried an ion rifle. But his jaw dropped when Krell came marching up with an ion rifle in hand.

"I believe you will be wanting this," the alien replied, giving the rifle to Martin. Charles looked at the energy weapon in surprise. But there was something more to the rifle. "I was told that your specialty is sniping. Ion rifles are capable of receiving a number of attachments; so, I had a scope attached to this one for you."

Martin looked at the rifle, holding it up and admiring it in the light. Martin aimed the weapon at the sky and looked through the scope. It may be small but it was functional. But there was one more thing to it. Krell reached over and held in a button and pushed the flipped the scope to the side of the rifle, the button clicking back into place the moment the lens was off to the side. He did it again, pushing in the button and pulling the scope back up, the lens clicking firmly into place. He finally did it one last time, clicking the scope to the side of the rifle; they probably weren't going to need it any time soon.

The Ror'char really wanted them to succeed. They had given back everything taken. They were all geared up, tactical vests and everything. Even their GDO's.

They all looked at the silver stargate, ready for the mission.

"We don't care how you do it," Krell reminded. "Just get the job done, then meet us on this planet." Krell handed Nova a scrap of paper, six symbols scribbled on it. "It's an uninhabited planet with docile wildlife. Meet us there once you are done."

Nova gave a stiff nod as she folded up the paper

"You're sure confident that we won't just gate back to Millennium once we're through," Nova pointed out. Krell gave a smile at how observant she was.

"It is true, we putting our faith in your honor," he replied. "But, you'll have to investigate to save your friends. And you'll need our help to free the slaves. I don't think you'll be leaving them to their fate, will you?"

Nova didn't react to this statement but she knew he was right. They weren't going to leave their Expedition team and they weren't leaving the slaves behind.

"Dial it up!" Krell ordered. The trooper at the DHD obeyed and began to press the silver buttons on the pedestal. The giant ring roared to life, the inner ring spinning to find each chevron, the egg-shaped rings locking down to engage each symbol. The last chevron was locked in, the silver ring filled with a shimmering blue wall of water what rushed forth before being sucked back in.

Nova looked at her teammates. This certainly wasn't their usual way to start a mission but it worked.

"Wolf Pack," she said. "Roll out."

-.-

For a place classified as a lawless town of pirates, thugs, thieves, and mercenaries, it sure was cheerful. The moment they stepped out of the gate, Nova heard music fill her ears. It sounded like someone was playing an accordion somewhere in the distance. The buildings were tattered but brightly painted, the walls of the houses white and their tiled roofs often orange. It was a rather simple small town with traders lined up along the streets with their tents with tables full of items to buy, most of them stolen. Along with stands selling strange foods and jewelry, there were small shops selling mechanical parts, furniture, even weapons.

Nova stopped in front of the stand selling alien weaponry, her eyes widening in interest. Plasma casters, thermobaric cannons, kinetic crossbows, concussion pistols, these small shops had them all. The guns were lined up at the front like a display case.

"Easy, Major," Martin teased. "I don't think we were given enough keys to buy that."

"Say!" the human trader called out, his hands coming out of his vest pockets. "That's a nice ion rifle you got there. Been killing Ror'char troopers lately?" The trader slid his tray of weapons forward and into the sunlight. "Is there anything you want for it?"

Martin looked at the tray of alien weapons before taking a step back and clinging to his gun almost like a mother clinging onto a child.

"Guys," Corin chirped. "Let's stick to why we came here." He and Chen walked away without another word. Nova gave Martin a nod, the silent order to follow, and they both went with them, leaving the shopkeeper grumbling in anger.

Normally, walking around an alien civilization with guns were often looked down upon by their hosts. SG mission reports always told how their alien hosts would always request they be disarmed and the SG team would insist on keeping the weapons to protect themselves. But here, no one seemed to care. They weren't exactly all carrying weapons but they did spot a few and the guns did come in a wide variety everything from simple swords to a icthyan carrying what looked like a rocket launcher on his back.

"You ok, Corin?" Nova asked when he saw Corin squirm uncomfortably.

"It's ok," he said. "It's just that…the Ror'char keep a tight control on anything that could be considered a weapon."

"You're the American among us," Chen remarked. "You can handle this one." Nova gave Chen an irritated stare. Three of them were from different countries and one of them was from a different planet. This meant different political beliefs from all of them and the last thing she needed was them arguing about politics now.

"Let's focus on the task at hand," Nova said. "This is where Loadstone vanished. We need to take precautions to make sure we don't meet the same fate." She looked around, trying to figure out what to do next. "Let's hit the tavern," she suggested. "We'll ask around, see if anyone saw anything." Chen and Corin could only give a nod. It's not like they had a better idea what to do.

"Good plan, but where's the tavern?" Corin asked. The four of them looked around but they all realized that none of them knew where they had to go. Martin was also looking around. That's when he spotted something, or rather someone, in the distance.

"What the…" he muttered, his eyes narrowing. The streets were crowded but not stuffed and in the distance he could see someone standing there. Everyone else was moving about but this one person was standing there, staring at them. Martin couldn't get a face; it was concealed under a decent sized hood, the rest of the body hidden by a gray long coat. He just stood there, staring at them.

"Martin," Nova said, putting her hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glanced at her but when he looked back, the figure was gone. Nova didn't know what was wrong but Martin usually had pretty good instincts when it came to this.

"You see something?" she asked.

"Not sure," Martin replied. "Just…" He remembered Krell explaining the situation to them back at the base. Even if this place looked upbeat, it was still a pirate haven. Slavers could be around any corner. "I think we need to be careful."

-.-

This whole planet was new for Martin and Nova. Back in the Milky Way and Pegasus, the civilizations they ran into were primitives. The people would live in wood and straw huts. Here, this place seemed like a mesh of advanced, modern, and old technology. After a few more minutes of walking they left the market district and entered what seemed like the business district. The vendors and their stalls were gone, small convenience stores along the side of the street now.

"You think this is it?" Chen announced, staring at one of the larger buildings, staring across its patio and into the bar inside. Chen probably would've thought it was just a bar if it wasn't for the three extra stories above it. It was definitely one of the larger buildings in the haven and it looked like it was located in the center of town. Granted they didn't know any locations in the haven but this clearly looked like an important spot.

Nova, Martin, and Corin stepped up beside him, also staring at the building.

"Might as well give it a try," Nova said. She took the lead, P90 cradled in hand, she walked up to the front door and opened it. She thought about the villages in the Milky Way and Pegasus. If they ever walked into a bar of town hall, the entire room was fall silent and stare at them. But here, maybe about three people looked their direction. The rest of the room minded their business.

"Such a warm welcome," Chen remarked.

The tavern was pretty well lit. Along with the sunlight coming through the windows, the lights in the ceiling and the fireplace gave it some extra light. The main floor was lined with tables and chairs with a number of people busy eating and chatting. A little lounge area was arranged at the side for those who weren't there to eat. A hallway near the back looked like it led to the bathrooms. A dimly lit corner near the back had a few tables set up but was largely unoccupied.

"Corin, how many races are there in this galaxy?" Martin had to ask. He was still used Milky Way's overwhelming human population. Being in the Ror'char base and now being in a pirate haven, he had seen more races than he even knew existed.

"More than I can count," Nevec replied casually. "It isn't like this back in Milky Way?"

"It's mostly humans because of the Goa'uld," Nova answered. She looked around, trying to decide what to do next. They had just spend half an hour walking around, doing nothing. "Alright, teams of two. Steven with Corin, ask people around town. Martin with me; we'll see what people here know"

-.-

Part of her was second guessing the choice to put the two military officers into one pair. She knew Chen was more than capable of fighting but it still felt wrong. All she could do was put faith in her friend's fighting abilities.

"How should we do this, Major?" Martin asked.

"Well, don't know if you noticed but if you look around," she remarked, gesturing to the entirety of the room. "Our uniforms kinda stand out in a crowd."

"So we go around and ask if anyone's seen anyone that looks like us," Martin concluded. "That makes sense." He looked around the tavern. He had to start somewhere. He walked up to a ragged-looking icthyan sitting at the bar counter.

A race of amphibians, icthyans may be humanoid but that's where their similarities end. They still have the same scaly skin as any other fish as well as webbed hands and feet. They don't have hair but they do have a row, sometimes two or three rows, of barbed fins on their head. Nova never did find out if they had ear lobes since they had another set of fins where their ears are. Even their face wasn't human, a fish-head atop its neck.

"Whaddup, mate," Martin greeted, plopping on a stool beside the purple-scaled alien. "Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Can I ask why?" the icthyan asked suspiciously, his hand drifting into his vest. Martin kept his smile but he could feel the adrenaline shoot into his body as he realized what the fish-man was reaching for. Charles's hand instinctively drifted toward the ion rifle.

"Take it easy," Nova spoke up, walking up to the two. "Some of our friends came here a few days ago. We just want to know if you've seen them. They should've been wearing the same uniforms as us."

"You're new to the piracy business aren't you?" the icthyan remarked. At the very least, he moved his hand out of his vest so he could grasp the shot glass in front of him and pour the orange liquid down his throat.

"Don't fish die when they drink?" Martin hissed to Nova. A bit too loudly it seemed like. The icthyan slammed his glass down, his hand going back into his vest.

"Easy now," Nova warned, pointing her gun at the man. The icthyan looked at her with a raised eyebrow. After a moment he gave an irritated sigh.

"If you're looking for someone then you should probably ask a regular around here," he suggested. "Try the barkeeper, he might know something. Now..." Nova tensed when the icthyan pulled his hand out of his vest pulling out not a gun but a pipe to smoke and a lighter. "If you excuse me." He put the pipe between his thick lips so he could light the leaves inside, his webbed hand covering the flame.

"Be wary when in a pirate haven," the icthyan said, getting to his feet. "It is the place anyone can get anything…anything…even people. Always be on your toes; your friends made that mistake."

Nova and Martin whipped around when they heard this.

"Wait!" Nova barked but it was too late. The icthyan stepped out the front door. Nova rushed after him, practically falling on her face as she leapt outside, but it was too late. The fish man had already disappeared into the crowd outside. Nova stepped back into the tavern, shaking her head at Martin. She stiffly walked back to the counter. It felt like her heart was going to shatter.

"Bugger!" Martin cursed. A source of information was right in front of them and they let it slip between their fingers.

"We're close," Nova growled. "We just need to look closer."

-.-

It really was a cheerful place outside. The music coming from the street performers was upbeat and the people were really friendly. It wasn't just a passerby saying hi but people giving suggestions on what they should do here.

"You should lose the uniforms next time; it gives people the wrong impression."

"Don't let those guns out of your sight. Things grow legs and walk off around here, especially weapons no matter what era they're from."

"You ok?" Chen asked, looking as Corin continued twitching uncomfortably. Corin looked angry back at the Ror'char base but here he looked like a hen that entered a fox den. "I don't think I've ever seen you this unnerved before."

"It's nothing," Corin said dismissively, but even his voice sounded nervous. "It's just that…" He looked around him, unable to shake the feeling. "I just don't feel safe here."

"Any more so than the planets with killer plants, giant ice monsters, or nightmare super soldiers?" Chen pointed out. Corin looked at the ground, acknowledging that Chen at a point. They had faced plenty of dangerous situations and it was only this that set him on edge.

"This place just doesn't seem right," Corin remarked. "You don't feel the same way? This place seems wrong, just having people run around like this. There's no order or anything." Chen just shrugged at this question. Saying something 'didn't seem right' was a rather vague statement.

"I don't think this place is wrong per se," Chen replied, trying to figure out how he should phrase this. "It's just a place. Some people here are good and some are bad."

"I thought you hated criminals."

"I do, but just because a place is lawless doesn't mean every last person who lives there is a criminal. I mean, I don't think the Sulibar are that bad. I think…" Chen's voice trailed off, knowing what he was about to say might come off as hurtful.

"What is it?" Corin asked impatiently. Normally, Chen was very good at concealing his true feelings on a subject. But, he was tired and didn't have the energy to try to hide his true feelings and it was obvious, even to Corin.

"It's just that…" Chen's voice trailed off again. It was a bit hypocritical of him; he always said that if you had something to say, say it. "You're gonna like what I have to say," Chen warned.

"Just spit it out already."

"You're more influenced by the Ror'char than you think," Chen blurted. "Alright? I know you don't want to hear it after what they did to your wife, Andrea, but I can't feel that all your beliefs come from them."

"Like what?" Corin asked flatly.

"As much as you believe in a free society, you clearly hate a lack of order," Chen pointed out. "Your concept of justice, morality, selflessness, I think come from the Ror'char. And I think your pacifistic beliefs come from them too."

"I can't believe you're actually saying I'm anything like them!" Corin barked. "They're tyrants, murderers, dictators!"

"You're missing my point," Chen snapped. "Even if you don't like the way they do things, they are still governed by a strict set of beliefs. They might go about those beliefs differently than you but they-" Chen stopped when something behind Corin caught his eye. "Wait a minute," he said, gesturing toward a human walking away with a box of a variety of weapons. "Isn't that a P90?" Corin turned around. Low and behold, there was a P90 in the box.

"Hey!" Corin called out as the two of them jogged over to the bald man. Chen's hand went to his gun though the guy didn't look very threatening. He wasn't even wearing a shirt so that was one less place to be hiding weapons.

"Huh?" the trader wheezed, turning to face potential customers. "You see something that meets your fancy?" He set down the box and Chen immediately snatched up the weapon he spotted. No doubt about it now; it was a P90. "Interested in buying that gun right there? Just got the thing two days ago."

Corin's face lit up when he heard this.

"Where'd you get it from?" he asked hurriedly.

"It was sold to me," the trader stated as if it was nothing. "He's one of my regulars."

While the trader was busy explaining things to Corin, Chen was checking out the gun. He gave the barrel a sniff. Nothing. To confirm, he ejected the mag. All the bullets were there.

"Mind if we meet this guy?" Chen grunted, his eyes narrowing into a glare. The trader put his hand to his chin, thinking about the offer.

"Got anything to make it worth my while?" he finally asked, picking the box back up. Chen gave a wicked smile.

"I can give you some of my bullets," he stated. There was a loud click as Chen cocked his MP7 and aimed it right at the trader's skull.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Corin cried out. "Steven, let's put the gun down."

"I'd listen to your friend if I were you, lad," the trader chuckled. "Maybe you've forgotten, but mine are bigger than yours." Chen looked down and realized that the trader was holding the box with one hand and with the other hand had picked up one of the particle repeaters and aimed it at Chen's chest.

Steven groaned in frustration. He was hoping that he could threaten the trader before he could grab a gun but it looks like he was equally fast on the draw.

"Alright," Corin called out. "How 'bout we all put the guns down." He looked around, trying to think of a way to peacefully resolve the situation. He reached down and pulled the grenade off Chen's belt, holding it up to the trader. "Grenade," he explained. "Sound good?"

The trader smiled. Now they were getting somewhere. He turned back to Chen and said, "You first."

Steven gave an angry mutter as he lowered his gun and the trader followed suit. Corin was about to give the man a grenade but the trader cleared his throat and held out his hand in front of Chen. Chen didn't even bother arguing as he handed back the P90 he had taken.

"He's a human that spends a lot of time at the tavern at the center of town," the trader explained, taking the grenade. "Along with his drinking, he does engage in some…less than reputable business practices."

"Less than reputable," Chen repeated.

"Hey, believe it or not, there is honor amongst thieves. Even criminals have crimes they will never even consider committing. I only accept items he has to sell and stay out of his business. Though I am curious, why are you so keen on meeting him?"

"That's our business," Chen answered before Corin could say anything. "Unless you want to make it worth our while…"

The trader stared at Chen, taking in Steven's response. Then, a small smile spread across the trader's face. Then that smile turned into a chuckle. And soon, he was laughing right in front of them.

"I like you two," he said. "And for that, I'll give you another snippet of information on the house. I have an icthyan business associate who says he ran into your other two friends asking questions at the tavern. As a dishonorably-discharged-enforcer-turned-bounty-hunter, he says just as some items have a habit of growing legs and walking off, other items have a habit of growing legs and ending up in your meals."

Corin and Chen exchanged glances as they processed this new statement.

"Why are you doing this?" Steven asked suspiciously. "You know we aren't going to give you anything."

"I know," the trader chirped.

"So why are you doing this?" Chen repeated. "There's nothing for you to gain. So why would you go out of your way to help us?" The trader had to hold back an obvious chuckle.

"You guys are definitely new," the trader laughed. "You guys don't know anything: the business, the power structure…"

"Power structure?" Corin repeated. "Space pirates are completely lawless. Your power structure is that the strong rule. There's no law. There's no order."

"So?" the trader asked, acting as if Corin was complaining about the color of the sky. "Alright, let me put it this way: take two pirates of high rank and power. What's to stop them from just abusing everyone beneath them?"

"Nothing," Chen and Corin both answered simultaneously.

"Wrong! For the sake of argument, let's say they are both of equal rank and power, and let's say one guy abuses everyone beneath him and the other is charitable to them. The lower ranking guys will be more loyal to the nice guy because they know he will help them. And he has become more powerful than the other guy his level since he now has people to help him. If someone tries to off the now more powerful guy, it's now more likely that the underlings will try to take revenge, or someone who holds the same belief will hunt the killer down. You help others, they'll be more inclined to help you in the future. So you see, disorder creates its own order, one where you'll want to help others for your own sake. Rule and law only serve protect those who do wrong and weaken those who obey, sheep to the slaughter of the wolves. Laws weaken everyone and leave them vulnerable to the one guy who decides to break the law. Disorder forms its own order due to mutually assured destruction. Anyways, I hope you remember this but you gotta go hunt these bastards down."

Chen and Corin gave a gracious nod before turning around and taking off.

"Good luck finding what you're looking for, lads!" the trader called as the two ran off. "And if you ever come back, just remember Item and Information Brokers Serrod and Harath are always at your service!"

-.-

It was Nova's turn to plop down onto the sofa in the dining section. They had gone around asking everyone if they had seen humans in uniforms like theirs. No one had seen anything.

"Guess we were kinda being stupid about this," she remarked to Martin, who leaned against the brick fireplace. "The human trafficking rings on Earth take forever to find. What made us think that we could find slavers here? Even the roaches couldn't find the slavers."

"You think Chen and Corin found anything?" Martin asked, scanning the room. As if the answer his question, Nova's radio suddenly crackled to life.

"Terra, you there?" Corin's voice came through.

"I'm here, Corin," Nova answered. "Got anything?"

"Terra, he regulars in the tavern! There's a good chance he's there right now!" Nova and Martin exchanged glances, not sure whether to be relieved or fearful. They needed to find a link to the slavers but they could just as easily go from the hunters to the hunted, assuming they weren't that already.

"Thanks, Corin," Nova answered. "We'll keep an eye out." She let go of her radio and let it hang from her uniform. This narrowed down her search but they still had a huge place to search. She was about to ask Martin for his opinion when she noticed Martin wasn't paying attention. "Charles?" she asked.

"Over there," he whispered. "The guy in the back. He's been following us." The Major felt her heart sink. If they were being followed then they might be the slaver's next targets. Nova leaned back and threw her arms up as if to stretch, tilting her head in the direction of the figure. Sure enough, there was a short humanoid figure standing in the corner of the tavern. She couldn't see the face or even tell what species he was, his body covered by a gray long coat and his face covered by a hood.

"Crikey, Major," Martin groaned.

"What?"

"Is that your way of being inconspicuous?!"

Nova just turned and looked at the corner again. The figure had vanished.

"You think he might have an idea as to what's going on?" she asked.

"Only one way to find out," Martin replied, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Mister E over there just went into the men's restroom."

"Check it out," Nova ordered. Martin gave a nod, reaching down and setting his ion rifle to medium. At minimum yield, the ion rifle was like a DMR, capable of sniping targets from a decent range and had the fastest rate of fire but it was not suited for close quarters; it would take too long to aim and fire. At maximum yield, it was like a rocket and if he used it in close quarters he would likely incinerate himself. Medium yield was the best answer, the concussive blast able to hurt the target as long as he doesn't blow his own foot off.

Martin kept his weapon ready as he walked into the bathroom. It was a surprisingly clean and even furnished place, the toilets and stalls lined up along one wall and sinks and mirrors lined along the opposite. The orange tiles were polished as if they belonged inside a mansion and not a bathroom.

Martin did not like close quarters combat. He was a sniper. He enjoyed spending hours doing nothing but sitting in a tree doing nothing. While he was still trained to fight in close quarters, he still preferred being able to line up the shot before pulling the trigger.

Charles looked around but there was no one in sight. Unless the figure had decided to flush himself down the toilet, the only place left to hide was in the stalls. Making sure he didn't lower his gun, he got to one knee and looked underneath the stalls. He could see a pair of boots in the furthest one. He carefully walked up to the door and paused, ready to shoot the back wall. The concussive force would turn the toilet into a miniature grenade hurtling fragments of parceling in every direction, surely injuring or even killing the person inside.

He gently pushed open the door and aimed. He looked up from his weapon, his jaw dropping before reaching forward and closing the door.

"I must be tired," he groaned, leaning against the tiled wall and rubbing his eyes. "I could've sworn I just saw a Sontaran inside that stall."

-.-

Nova glanced at the bathroom again. She had an idea; a suicidal idea but a bad idea. She stayed at the counter, looking around innocently. She was calling upon a skill she hadn't used since she was a teenager. It wasn't a skill she was particularly proud of but it never left her. She reached up and pulled her hairband off, letting her long dark auburn hair fall loose. She left her P90 hanging out at the side as she looked around. She did give the order to stick together but for this plan to work, she had to be by herself. And she waited…and waited…and waited.

She glanced at the bathroom again. The reason she was ok with Martin going in there was because it was a bathroom, a dead end. She was beginning to dread she actually made a very bad decision, that there was a secret tunnel or something and she just gave Martin to them.

"You've been sitting here for a while," a voice said. She looked up and spotted the barkeep wiping his hands on his apron as he walked up to the counter. Nova had seen him wiping down the glasses and counter but she never paid particular attention to him.

"Just got a lot on my mind," she replied, brushing her hair back. The rather skinny sireen nodded sympathetically. With a single fluid motion, he snatched up a shot glass and a wine bottle from the shelf, filled it, and slid the glass down to where she sat.

"On the house!" he said cheerfully, capping the bottle again. She smiled and nodded gratefully. She examined the clear orange liquid for a bit, not sure how to proceed. She knew there was a real possibility that this drink was how the slavers captured their victims. She could drink it and become their next one. But, if it was drugged then that would mean that her trap had worked and a slaver was nearby. But of course there was the possibility that there was nothing wrong with the drink. She did watch the barkeep pour it out for her straight from the bottle.

She took the glass, put it to her lips, and took a sip. She used to be a big drinker when she was young and she missed the tangy flavor. She set the glass down, waiting to see if anything would happen, her hand drifting toward a grenade on her vest. She watched the barkeep go back to his work, not even caring about her. But it wasn't only the barkeep she was paying attention to. She did her best to keep track of every person in the room. There was a large man sitting to her left, slowly eating his meal. Four people huddled around the fireplace, laughing and joking about. And there were even more people further back in the dining area, enjoying their meals. So far, everything seemed to be normal.

She looked back at the bathroom, beginning to feel nervous that Martin hadn't come out yet. She then glanced at the front door of the tavern. Corin and Chen hadn't gotten back either. Maybe groups of two was too small. She still didn't know how the Loadstones disappeared. It was possible all four of them were together when it happened. That would mean splitting them up was the worst idea possible. When Mercer sent another team to investigate Loadstone's disappearance, he sent eight people who stuck together. Nova had ordered Martin to investigate the bathroom in the hopes of a lone person wearing a uniform identical to Loadstone would be enticing to the slavers. But what if groups of two were too small? What if the bathroom was not the dead end she hoped and had a secret escape?

She shook off the feeling, holding the glass again and bringing it to her lips. As she took another sip of the sweet liquid inside, she froze.

As a teenager, she had made a habit of slipping things into the drinks of any boys that caught her fancy. Illegal? Yes. And had she been caught she would never have been permitted to join the military. When she finally denounced her old ways, her former friends decided to do it to her as punishment for desertion.

If this hadn't happened to her she probably wouldn't have even noticed, a weak taste of salt in her drink. It definitely wasn't there before and she probably wouldn't have even realized if she hadn't been in similar situations before. They had counted on the strong sweet taste of the alcohol to mask the saltiness. And it looked like taking the sip earlier was working to her advantage; the dose was more concentrated. Still, the taste was subtle and any normal person would never have noticed. But that raised even more problems. She hadn't left her drink alone; all she did was turn away for barely a second. Whoever did this was able to slip something right under her nose.

She carefully flushed the liquid out of her mouth and back into the glass, careful not to swallow. Nova looked around, trying to figure out who could've done it. Part of her wanted to just take the shot; they were so close to finding the slavers she was afraid she would blow their one and only opportunity. They were catching wind and the only way to catch it is when it blows. There was no way to find out who slipped the stuff into her drink and if she lets them know she knows about it, whoever did it might just slip away to find someone more vulnerable.

She could always pretend the drug was taking affect. No. It was obvious she hadn't drunk much and her acting skills were abysmal. She glanced at the bathroom again. She closed her eyes and gave a sigh. It was time to improvise. She took the glass and drank the liquid. This would either be a brilliant decision or the second worst mistake of her life.

If memory served her, it would take a few minutes for the drug to take affect and when it did it would be swift. She could only hope this new plan would work. After about three minutes, she could already feel the world begin to wobble. Not long after, she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. She couldn't see who it belonged to but she could tell it wasn't anyone from her team.

"I think my friend had a bit too much to drink."

Showtime…

She stood up and faced the person who said this. She couldn't really react in surprise when she saw it was the man that had been sitting to the left of her. The rather pudgy human took his hand off her shoulder in shock. Nova looked him up and down, trying to find anything discernable on him or anything that looked like a weapon. There was nothing on his blue cargo pants or black vest. But she knew he had to be armed somewhere.

"Don't think so," she managed to slur out as she held up the grenade she had been gripping in her right hand, the pin hanging off her thumb. "If…if I…" Her tongue was going numb and she was already feeling lightheaded. She could feel her mouth moving but she was having trouble making it say what she wanted. "If I let go of this clip…" she managed to say. "We all go up!"

She looked at the bathroom again. What was taking Martin so long? Her eyelids were feeling heavy and she was afraid if she closed them for too long she would lose consciousness.

"Take it easy," the man said, his hands out in front of him. "You've drunk a bit too much."

"Your bad acting isn't fooling anyone…slaver," she said loudly. Some of the guests in the background had actually begun to get up to help restrain her but the moment those words left her mouth, she watched as they all turned to walk away. The slaver looked around in shock and horror. This was the one crime that was universally hated amongst pirates. They were not going to bother dealing with a slaver. Of course, there was also the possibility that she was lying or just too drunk. No way to know, the best course of action was simply to leave and let them sort it out.

One by one they filed out of the tavern. Of course, this wasn't so good for Nova either. She was hoping they would help her but it looks like that wasn't the case.

The slaver looked at Nova, venom gleaming from his eyes. It was terrifying just how evil a human's face could contort.

"You think that grenade will save you?" he asked, pacing back and forth.

"Was this how you got your last catch?" Terra managed to say, her hand squeezing the lever to the grenade. The slaver smiled at this question, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"So I was right," he chuckled. "Thought that uniform looked similar."

Terra would've been filled with pure rage if she had the energy for it. Every word that left the man's mouth sounded so arrogant, so cocky. She wanted the opportunity to take that ego and crush his skull with it. But she was in no position to even think it let alone do it.

Nova felt her right leg buckle. She dropped to one knee, still holding onto her grenade. When she looked up, her eyes widened in horror. She tried to release the grenade from her hand but it was too late. The slaver had rushed forward, seeing his opening, and grabbed the hand holding the grenade, his fingers squeezing the lever to the metal container. She tried to pull away but she could feel the energy leaving her body.

"Gotcha," the slaver snorted. Nova wanted to fight back but it looked like this was it. Even her leverage was useless. She didn't have any strength in her arms or fingers. She just felt tired.

The slaver smiled as he began to slip his fingers around the metal container when suddenly…

He jammed the grenade back into Nova's palms, forcing her fingers back around the lever, before throwing himself backwards. The air was split open by an ear-piercing bang, cement erupting from the floor, leaving a fist-sized hole behind in the ground. The slaver faced the hallway toward the bathroom, his hands reaching inside his vest, but froze.

Nova fell back against the counter but she looked toward the bathroom. Martin had finally emerged but it was the person standing beside him that caught her attention. It was the mystery man who had been following them, the tails of his ragged gray long coat flapping in the breeze that came through the open window window, a pair of hand axes hanging off either thigh, a block-shaped shotgun in his hands: Soren Stavig.

"Why are…you here?" Nova managed to breathe as her head finally fell limp.

"Hold your fire, Soren!" Martin yelled, rushing over to Nova's side. "We need him alive." He gently took the grenade from her hand, sliding the pin back into place. It was just in time too as he watched Nova finally fall unconscious.

Soren kept his eyes locked on the slaver, analyzing him and his movements. Soren had killed dozens of members of the Valken Royal Guards. As far as he was concerned, this slaver was just another victim. Soren kept his shotgun steady, ready to pull the trigger. The Ichaival shotgun, also known as the 'thunder rifle', fired like any other shotgun, but its pellets and slugs were kinetic generators. Upon impact, the target is hit hard enough that the bullet might as well have the mass of a sledgehammer and it transfers all that kinetic energy into the target. The slaver didn't seem nervous in the slightest and he wasn't inching toward the door; he also had a disturbingly excited smile upon seeing the fierri.

"Well, look at what we have here," he laughed. "I've never seen your kind before. What are you?"

Soren simply growled. He did not like answering questions.

Martin prepared to draw the ion rifle from his back but the slaver actually began walking away from the door and toward the other end of the bar. "Tell me, what happens now?"

"Now we take you in," Martin answered. He wanted to stay by the Major's side but it seemed that she was only unconscious or asleep and even if it was more than that he couldn't do anything about it. He had to find out what happened to Loadstone and this slaver was going to tell them either here or back on Millennium.

"Let me ask you this: your friend over there," the slaver said, gesturing toward Soren. "Did his race just discover gate travel? Haven't seen his kind before."

Soren didn't react to this statement. He just maintained his irritated glare.

"We'll ask the questions," Martin barked. "Though you were easier to find that I thought." Martin knew this statement was a bold-face lie, that they had caught the slaver through pure luck and some questionable decision making on Nova's part.

"Oh, and why were you looking for me?"

As Martin and the Slaver talked, something else caught Soren's attention. The fierri didn't know what it was but this whole situation seemed a bit too easy. Why had the slaver moved away from the door? And why did it feel like they were being watched? One thing Soren learned as a serial killer is that the obvious targets are the most dangerous. The only reason a person would put themselves in an obvious bad position was…when it was a trap…when that person had a way out and backup ready to attack.

Soren ran the situation through his head. He has gone after what seemed like obvious targets in the past merely to find out they were just bait. If he was right, then they were all in trouble. But what if he was wrong? There was only one way to find out: spring the trap. He had to force the slaver's hand.

"Some of our friends disappeared from here a few days ago and we want to know what happened to them," Martin demanded.

"Hey, what makes you think I would know?" the slaver laughed, throwing his hands in the air as if to say he surrendered. He kept eyeing the three as if he was trying to estimate their price.

"Oh, c'mon, Pudgy." Martin could see the slaver grit his teeth in annoyance at the nickname given to him. "Our friends vanish from here and we suddenly nearly become your next catch?"

"Well," Pudge said, leaning against the counter. The man was still a ways away but Martin still stepped between him and Nova. "Now that you mention it, originally only she was going to be my next catch but it looks like it's my lucky day; I get three in one."

Soren snorted in amusement as this statement.

"And how do you figure that?" he asked gruffly.

"He speaks!" the slaver cried out playfully. "Can I get your name?" Soren responded to that question with another glare. "Well, aren't you a stick in the mud."

"Answer the man's question," Martin barked. Pudge just laughed at this reaction. "What's so funny?"

"Your people are a special kind of stupid, aren't you?" he chortled. "You think you have the right to demand stuff from me?"

"You're clearly outnumbered and outgunned," Soren said calmly. "Yet you seem confident that you can take us on. Tell me, how long will it take for your plan to be set in motion?"

"Excuse me?"

"Despite your situation, you seem confident that can deal with us. You aren't even trying to escape. If you were alone, that is a sign of incompetence and stupidity, not superiority." The slaver growled at the obvious slight against him. "If you are not as brain-dead as you look, this could only mean you have a plan in place to deal with a situation such as this. So why have you not sprung it into action yet? How long will it take to set up?"

"I don't need any setup or plan," Pudge said coldly. "Taking you out will be easy."

"Easy, you say? Says the coward who relies on drugging to go after the unsuspecting."

Soren could tell the slaver was getting angrier by the second and calling the man a coward only stoked the fires. The human wanted to attack right now.

"Trying to act tough, huh? You really trying to intimidate me?"

"I'm trying not to laugh," Soren replied.

Soren could see the slaver trembling with anger. He was hoping to use the man's arrogance and have him accidentally spill what the plan was but this was taking too long. If there was a trap then it had to be sprung before it was properly set up.

"Arrogant little shit!" Pudge ranted in some desperate attempt to convince them of his superiority. "You have no idea how outmatched you are! You guys are nothing but a bunch of pathetic beta males trying to act tough! Might as well give up now! You think you caught me but you couldn't be more mistaken! This is our turf here! Here, I'm God! Here, you can't even scratch me!"

Martin looked at Soren uncomfortably. If Soren was right, then they were right in the middle of a trap. But, it didn't seem like the fierri even cared.

"Not even a scratch you say?" Soren repeated, shouldering his shotgun and taking the axes off his thighs. It was time to spring the trap before it was properly set up. "Let's see if I can make. Once we're done, Lieutenant Martin here can take back what's left of you."

The reality hit Martin as he realized what Soren was about to do.

"Soren, wait!"

Soren launched himself at the slaver.

Back on Earth, there was a rule of thumb known as the '20 foot rule'. A person could traverse a distance of 20 feet in the time it takes to draw and fire a gun. And that was just the average human. Not only was Soren less than 20 feet from the slaver, Martin knew how fast Soren could move, that the fierri could cover twice the distance in the same time. Charles practically expected a sonic boom when Soren flew at Pudge like a bullet. The slaver only had enough time to bring his right hand to a green gem on a golden band around his left wrist. Soren leapt into the air and raised his axes high above his head and brought them down upon the slaver, the metal blades aimed right at his collar. But suddenly, the man vanished before his eyes. Soren landed on the ground, looking around in confusion.

Martin's jaw dropped. Their only source of info had just vanished. He wanted to blame Soren for this but he knew that if the man could disappear that easily then he could leave at any point in time; at least Soren just exposed him.

Martin could feel his heart sinking to the center of the planet. Their link to the slavers was their right in front of them and had just vanished. The fact that Nova managed to lure them out was a miracle, a miracle he was not sure they could replicate.

"That all you got?" a voice asked. Martin's eyes widened as he looked around the room for the source of the voice. That was the slaver who had just gotten away asking this. That meant Pudgy was somewhere in the room. It was only when he heard the click of five plasma rifles being cocked and aimed at him did Martin look up at the walkway behind the bar did he realize what was happening.

He dove behind the counter with Nova while Soren practically leapt to the other end of the room as blinding bolts of plasma pelted the ground like a storm of superheated rain, the stench of burnt wood and concrete shooting out of each impact. The pudgy slaver raised his hand, ordering his five associates to hold fire. The six of them stared down from the walkway upon their next catch. Martin stayed behind the counter, trying to drag Nova away without peeking his head out.

Soren stood at the far end of the room, staring up at the men on the walkway, wearing ragged clothes and scarves covering their head and face, making it impossible to even know what species they were let alone their identity. But Soren was more focused on the pudgy slaver from earlier. Pudgy looked at a golden band he had around his left wrist, watching as the red gem in the center finally turned green.

"A teleportation device?" Soren muttered, trying to figure out what just happened. This was the only thing he could think of. He was still new to the concept of aliens and alien technology but he has read old Valken and SGC mission reports through the gate. Guess he shouldn't be surprised at the idea of a personal teleportation device. "So you not only had a way to escape but backup as well? I'm actually impressed."

"Too bad I can't say the same for you," Pudge replied with a laugh. "I'm hoping you'd fetch me a high price but it looks like your race is as dumb as dung."

Soren looked at the ground with an amused smile.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to disappoint you," he snarked. "Now…allow me to prove you wrong."

-.-

"Why did we decide to stray so far form the tavern?" Chen huffed, sprinting through the crowded roads. People stepped to the side to let the charging duo pass. He couldn't sprint as fast as he could with Corin trailing behind but they were nearly there anyways. The tavern was already in sight.

"Steven!" Corin shouted, pointing at the building. Chen could see what Corin was yelling about. Something was going on inside, flashes of light leaping out the window, the sound of plasma fire echoing out the doors. Chen pulled Corin to the side of the building, crouching down below the sill of the window. He peeked through the glass. There was so much dust and debris being kicked up he couldn't even tell what was happening only that a firefight had broken out.

"Wait a minute," Chen muttered. "Is that Soren?!"

Corin and Chen were still watching the battle when their radios crackled to life.

"Chen, is that you, buddy?" Martin's voice came through.

"Charles, what is going on in there?" Corin asked.

"Long story," Martin babbled. "Alright, the blokes behind the counter are all slavers, especially the fat man in the center. Soren's doing a good job buying time but we need to capture at least one of them alive."

"What's Terra's plan then?" Chen asked, one of the windows outside shattering as a stray plasma bolt flew out of the building.

"She's been drugged," Martin explained. Corin and Chen exchanged bewildered glances, realizing that she was nearly the latest victim. "Look, I have an idea but I don't know how well it'll work. You see those support struts holding the walkway our bad guys are standing on?"

Chen peeked over the sill again. He could see the support beams that held up the wooden walkway behind the bar counter.

"You're the only one with a gun that can destroy those you know!" Chen barked.

"Exactly!" Martin barked back through the radio. Chen and Corin both ducked down as the window directly above shattered, glass spraying upon the two like rain. From inside, Soren dove past the window, quickly spraying hot lead back at his foes before retreating again. "Look, just give me a bit of cover!"

-.-

Soren had taken the submachine gun from his waist and had returned fire. Unlike other weapons in Caldwell 70, fierri weapons still fired projectiles but that didn't make the weapons any less intimidating or even less lethal. The Tyrfing: anyone who felt the shrieker rifle was too large or that its hundred thousand round per minute rate of fire was overkill, this submachine gun was the solution. Nicknamed 'maelstrom rifles', this compact silver gun was small enough that it can be fired with the stock cradled in the user's elbow but it still could unleash a storm of bullets upon its target.

But even with the maelstrom rifle's firepower Soren was still pinned down, dashing from cover to cover while spraying back at his shooters. He couldn't afford to take aim, plasma quickly pelting the area where he peeks out.

It was too cramped in here. He's faced situations like this before, outnumbered and outgunned, but he was always out in the open, able to run and flank the shooters from every angle. Here, he was stuck in a single location. This was not like the situations in the training simulations. In the simulations, he could charge in and attack with such speed and ferocity his enemies could not react. Here, he was stuck, trapped behind cover. He could not get the momentum he needed.

If only he could find a way to close the distance…

Soren stayed behind the marble pillar where he took cover. From his coat he took out a dagger and a length of steel wire. That wire used to be something he had in his sleeve that he could always wrap around his victim's neck and pull but now it was going to serve another purpose. He held those two in one hand as he took out a small metal cylinder with a vein of blue energy running through it. He then used the wire to tie other two items together. This may be the only way to get a leg up on these guys.

The doors to the tavern burst open and Chen stepped in, aiming and opening fire on the six. At least one of them cried out in pain as a bullet embedded itself in his shoulder, but the five armed slavers opened fire on the door. Chen yelled in shock and dove back out the door. From the other side, Martin stepped out from the bathrooms, his ion rifle set at medium yield. If he wanted to kill them he could've just fired it at the man in the center and wipe them all out. But he needed one of them alive. He aimed the rifle at the nearest end of the walkway and fired. The explosion nearly tossed him back, the wood turning into splinters. Nearly all the slavers on the walkway were knocked over, but the ones furthest turned and opened fire.

"Bugger!" Martin shouted, diving back behind the door. He had hoped that he could blow out both sides of the walkway and send the slavers tumbling down but their firepower was just too much. If this was just a regular firefight they could win easy but they needed at least one of the slavers alive.

"You aren't gonna win this!" Pudge gloated, putting his hand in his vest and taking out a large metal disk. Slavers had more than one way to catch prey. Normally a slaver catches prey inconspicuously, drugging them or luring them into a secluded location. But some space pirates preferred using more open methods.

Soren dashed out from his cover and hurled his dagger at Pudge, who simply leaned sideways and let the knife embed itself in the wall behind him. The slaver chucked the disk at the ground near Soren. The fierri was about to take cover again when the disk went off. There was a violent bang as Soren fell to his knees, sparks spewing out of the device.

"Hold fire," Pudge barked. The weapons fire quickly died down, the chaos in the building settling like the dust in the air. The slavers may have stopped firing but Chen and Martin knew they were still stuck behind cover. The slavers had their guns trained on their location while they still need to step out of cover and aim.

But Pudge was more interested in Soren.

"Aw, what's the matter? Can't you move?" the slaver mocked the fierri, who had fallen to one knee, his body trembling violently. Soren's face was contorted into a furious snarl as he tried to withstand the pain. "You're fast but no one can move if every muscle in their body is firing off at the same time." Soren could feel the electricity dancing across his entire body. It was if ever cell had come alive and was wriggling around. He could feel his body tiring, trembling as it tried to do everything at once. Contract, extend, bend, unfold, every muscle was active and pulling as hard as they could. "I don't know which planet you came from but I guess this is the end of the line." Pudge may have sounded confident but Soren should've been sprawled on the ground, not on his knees. No. He had his prey right where he wanted them. Any small victory by these people was due to dumb luck, not skill or strength.

From his perch, Pudge could see Soren's lips moving.

"Eh? What was that?" Pudge gloated. "It's not too late for you to start begging for your life, you know." Soren looked up and Pudge felt his blood chill. Soren's face was not contorted in pain. It was contorted with hate. Worse: he was moving. He was somehow fighting through both the pain and his muscles pulling his body apart.

"IMBECILE!" Soren roared, glaring up at the people on the walkway. He has heard nothing but gloating and bragging from Pudge and he's had enough. "I said 'eat this', slaver!" Soren held out his hand, a cylindrical detonator in his palm. He pressed the trigger. Pudge looked around in a panic, only realizing what was happening when heard a beep behind him. He whipped around, spotting the dagger still stuck in the wall. But tied to the knife's handle was another cylinder: a stun bomb. Soren knew that this was the only way to create an opening and tied it to the knife to hide what it really was.

There was a massive bang and a brilliant flash of light as the stun bomb went off. All the slavers on the walkway fell to their knees in confusion as a massive surge of energy shot through their body, a loud bang practically rupturing their eardrums and ratting their bones. It felt like their skin was burning.

The fierri may prefer projectile weapons but they were more than familiar with plasma weapons, and there was more than one way to use plasma. The plasma canister only detonated a tiny amount but it was enough plasma to cause a pressure wave that could knock a person off their feet and devastate nerves.

With no guns aimed at him, Soren raised his maelstrom rifle and brought its stock down on the metal disk, the device shattering and the field going down. His body was exhausted, feeling like it had run a marathon. Any regular person would've collapsed by this point but Soren wouldn't have become as dangerous as he was if he was that easily taken down.

Soren had the skills to wipe out all six of them; he only needed an opportunity to close the distance, a distraction. And he got it…

Soren pulled out his twin axes as he leapt over the counter and charged for the stairs leading to the walkway. He had to at the very least stop Pudge from teleporting away. If he opened fire from down there, Pudge could just hit the button and vanish again. But with the way the slavers were lined up, if he leapt onto the walkway and fired, there was a good chance one of his shots will go through more than one slaver and kill his intended prisoner. No. He was going to do this the old fashioned way. The slavers were lined up like sheep to the slaughter.

The first man could barely let out a scream as Soren brought both axe blades down into the man's skull before bringing his boot up and kicking the filth off. The second slaver was still sprawled out against the walkway, his right hand, the hand still holding the plasma rifle, was pressed against the railing for support. Soren brought one axe down upon the man's right hand, hacking it off, before whipping around and cleaving the other blade through the slaver's jaw with enough force the corpse was thrown over the railing. Pudge was next and Soren had no intention of letting him get away. Pudge reached up for the gem on his golden band but Soren swung his axes, their pointed hook-like bottoms embedding themselves into the band and into his arm. He screamed in pain as Soren gave a pull and threw the man off the walkway. This left three slavers alive. They were beginning to recover from the stun grenade, picking up their rifles. Even if they couldn't aim, Soren was so close that aiming wasn't necessary. But, with Pudge out of the way there was now nothing to stop him from unleashing his fury.

Soren returned his axes to their straps before reaching behind him and pulling the thunder rifle back out. He fell to one knee, taking aim at the targets in front of him: three slavers lined up in a row. The first one had finally picked up his plasma rifle

A clap of thunder shook the tavern, the blast exiting the shotgun's barrel and demolishing the chest cavity of the first slaver, exiting out the back and blasting through the next. His body exploded, the pellets embedded in his flesh but the artificial kinetic energy they generated still continued into the third slaver, crushing his ribcage. The three corpses were thrown backwards, falling to the ground. The one nearest the end stumbled off the walkway and to the floor below.

Soren walked up to the edge of the broken walkway, looking down at the corpse. This was bringing back memories.

-.-

On the ground, Pudge clung to his left arm. The axe had not only penetrated the golden metal band but sent fragments and shards of his own teleportation device into his wound. He looked up, watching as Martin came out from the bathroom while Corin and Chen came in from outside. Soren had dropped from the walkway and vaulted over the counter, landing right in front of the sole survivor.

"Why?" Pudge wheezed, hand over his wound. "Why didn't you finish me off?"

"I said I would leave just a scratch," Soren replied as all four of them surrounded him. "We still have questions for you to answer." The slaver growled at all four of them in anger but he knew it was pointless. He had been caught.

-.-

It was normal for Nova to take a shower after missions. But she spent an extra half hour in the showers this time. It was normal to come back from missions sweaty and tired but she just spent almost fifteen minutes sprawled out on the ground of a public bathroom on an alien planet. Doctor Osborn had already cleared her for duty; whatever drugs were in her drink were only made to knock her. With that out of the way, Nova wanted to wash off whatever grime got attached to hair laying on that floor. She finished her shower and dawned a pink T-shirt and jeans.

When she finished she found Donavan rolling through the halls outside the locker room.

"General Mercer's looking for you," he explained. She was curious why Mercer would want to talk to her so soon after a mission, before she could even finish her mission report. When she reached his office, the old man did not waste any time reprimanding her for what happened, not for getting captured or the agreement to help the Ror'char but for her actions at the pirate haven.

"You allowed yourself to be drugged while on duty and knowing what type of people you were searching for," Mercer hissed coldly.

"General, as I said to Doctor Osborn, I don't remember the moments before or after what happened," Nova pointed out calmly. "The last thing I remember was ordering Lieutenant Martin to follow the figure we saw into the bathroom."

"Yes, Doctor Osborn suspects whatever was that drug was it was designed to affect your memory," Mercer grumbled, putting his hands to chin. Nova's memories of the situation were foggy at best. As she said, the last thing she remembered was telling Martin to follow Soren into the bathroom, though they didn't know it was him at the time. She remembers something happened that put everything into a fog then the next clear memory she has is waking up on the floor of the tavern's public bathroom. By the time Martin had come out, Nova was already drugged and Chen and Corin didn't even arrive until much later. In other words, none of them knew how Nova got drugged to begin with.

"General," Nova spoke up. "Why did you send Soren to watch us?"

"I believe the appropriate term is 'demonstration'," Mercer replied. "I evaluated his skill sets and abilities and wished to see how he fared in the field. Soren Stavig is a close quarters combat specialist, his skill given to him by the survivors of the Genesis War and honed on local wildlife. Along with that, his skills include surveillance and tracking. This was an excellent chance to see what he is capable of."

"And if he performed below expectations?" Nova asked suspiciously, even as the hum of the stargate echoed through the chamber. The silver ring could be seen through the front window of the General's office so its activation could be felt even from here. But Nova was more concerned with the conversation at hand. "What if he got caught? Or captured? Or killed? Why didn't you use another situation to test him and send one of the surveillance teams? Or why didn't you have a second team follow to keep an eye on him?"

The stargate engaged, the shimmering pool of blue forming inside its ring.

"We shall continue this conversation another time," the old man replied, standing up from his seat. "For now, let us see what this is about." Nova wanted to protest, to demand answers, but that would be out of line. Mercer knew more than he was letting on. As a military leader, she knows that sometimes secrecy is required but she was becoming more and more irritated by the General's secrets.

-.-

One of the control room technicians pulled the chair away so Donavan could roll up to the laptop.

"General," he greeted as Mercer walked in. "We've sealed the barrier but nothing yet."

"No transmission?" Mercer asked.

"Negative."

Nova stared at the solid case that covered the front of the gate, the blue glow of the wormhole still filling both the gate room and control room. But for some reason nothing was coming through, not even a radio transmission.

There was an audible warble as an image suddenly materialized in the center of the control room, everyone whipping around to face the image. One of the passing guards jumped into action and aimed his rifle at the suddenly appearing figure.

"Krell," Nova breathed as the Ror'char Overlord appeared in the room, his arms folded behind his back. It was hardly a perfect hologram. It was hardly even a good hologram, the color washed out and the image flickering like it was a damaged VHS tape. Asgard holograms were so good that many times they were mistaken for the real thing until the first few bullets go through them. This, on the other hand, was clearly a hologram.

"Hello again, General Mercer," Exodan Krell greeted the old man. "I believe we haven't seen each other since our first encounter." The sireen looked around the room, taking in the sight, before setting his eyes on Nova.

"I'm disappointed in you, Major," he stated. "After you find a link to the slavers, you were supposed to return to us. I did give you the address of a neutral planet to meet us on."

Nova opened her mouth to argue but she didn't know what to say. Fortunately, Mercer did.

"How did you know she acquired a slaver as a prisoner?" he asked. "And how did you acquire this gate address?" Realization hit Nova in the face like a hammer.

"You had a spy follow us," she exclaimed. She watched as Krell's eyes narrow in irritation. He didn't answer but she got her answer from his expression.

"I guess we both betrayed each other," Krell finally answered. "Still, I simply had a shade monitor your actions to make sure you did not stray from our plan. In the scope of things, my actions were less dishonorable than yours."

"We can argue about that later," Mercer stated. "Then question is: how shall we proceed now? The slaver is currently in our custody."

"We both have something to gain from this," Krell replied. "You wish to rescue your friends. We wish to punish some corrupt government officials who have taken refuge in the slave market. And I doubt either of us would take issue exterminating the slavers in the process."

"We both have something to gain from this but do we necessarily need each other for this?" Mercer asked. "In a way, Wolf Pack's return is insurance." Krell raised a confused eyebrow but Mercer proceeded to explain this logic. "You needed them because you feared that the slavers would go into hiding once more if they caught you investigating. If they handed the prisoner to you, they would be of no more use to you."

A smile broke over Krell's face.

"I actually did not consider this," he admitted. "But, what of your first statement?"

"We have the slaver now. Why do we require you? We can extract the information and eliminate the slavers ourselves."

"You think the slave markets are so lightly guarded?" Krell asked. "You will need our help in order to save your friends lest you wish to hand over more of your people. I propose a new arrangement. Allow me and Overlord Azoth to come aboard your humble city and we may interrogate the prisoner together. Afterwards, we may formulate a strategy together."

Mercer paused for a moment. This was something he would normally discuss with the Department Heads but he also knew he could not take too long. He would have to make the decision and as the General of the Expedition he could make the decision.

"You may enter my city unarmed after being searched on another planet," he decided.

"Unacceptable," Krell immediately answered. "I will reduce our armaments to carnifex pistols but we will not go unarmed into your city."

"Then you shall never enter," Mercer said firmly. Hearing such a harsh tone of voice from the old man wasn't new anymore but it was still a rare occurrence. Even without knowledge of his true identity, when Mercer became enraged it felt like he could call upon the wrath of God.

"I know you are no fool," Krell said. "We have nothing to lose and everything to gain. You on the other hand have everything to lose and nothing to gain. If we don't get the slavers, we simply don't catch the fugitives we seek. If you don't find the slavers, you don't get your friends back. You are lucky we do not implement our own conditions. Tick, Tock, General…if you wait too long then the people you seek may be sold by the time you get there."

Mercer fell silent. He was aware of this. He had hoped that he could coerce Krell into agreeing with these terms. If he couldn't trick Krell into agreeing, the only question is if the risk of letting Ror'char officers into the city was worth the risk? And he had to make it fast.

"Then no," Mercer said. Nova stared at the General in shock. Everyone in the room stared at the General in shock. He just said he was willing to sacrifice four their own just to not work with the Ror'char. Nova always believed in 'no man left behind', that every team that goes through the gate can be reassured that if something happens they will receive help. "The loss of four of our own is regrettable, but by agreeing to your terms I would be endangering everyone in this city."

Krell's expression was originally one of shock, as much as or even more than everyone else in the control room. But, then a small smile spread over his face.

"I understand," Krell said. "It is not that you do not care for your people but rather you are more worried about the others you would be putting at risk. You put the safety of the many over the safety of the few. I can respect that."

"Then you understand why I will not accept your terms," Mercer said. "So long as you present a threat to this city and the people residing here, I will not accept the terms."

It was Krell's turn to fall silent, but he was silent in appreciation.

"Men like you and I…" he said quietly. "We are often seen as callous and unfeeling due to decisions like these. We make choices that resign a few individuals to a cruel fate in exchange for safety of the many. Many civilizations claim that the many outweigh the few, but next to none are willing to put that belief into practice. I concede to your wishes. Azoth and I shall come unarmed."

"My men shall meet you on the neutral planet you told Major Nova," Mercer said. "They will search you to make sure you are unarmed before bringing you to our city. Then we shall plant our next move."

"So glad we can agree," Krell said with a bow before fading away. Nova stared at the spot that Krell's hologram once stood. So they were doing this. They were going to work alongside the Ror'char.


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/U: Sorry for the delay. Things were getting busy. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention this in the first chapter but I would like to thank Anthropos Agnostos for his help on this ep. Well, please review and enjoy_**

 ** _-.-_**

Nova stood in front of the door to Corin's room, her hand hovering in front of the orange surface. She sighed and lowered her hand. The time wasn't right. She turned around and prepared to walk away when she heard the door slide open. Corin stepped out when he realized who was standing in front of his door.

"Terra," he said blankly. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to check on you," she said with a shrug. She was going to do this another time but he was already out so she might as well. "How're you?"

Corin just shrugged at this statement.

"I'm fine," he said dismissively.

"Corin, this is the man who killed your wife right in front of your eyes and now we're pretty much inviting him over for tea."

"Hey, we need to work with him if we want to save Loadstone. We don't have a choice."

"Corin, I'm not asking you as the team leader," Terra Nova said. "I'm asking you as your friend."

Corin glanced back into his room. He was going for a walk to clear his head but…

Nova walked right past Corin and into his room. He would've protested against this sudden intrusion if he wasn't so stunned. The place was a lot more furnished than when she first saw it. Originally it was just a bed and a dresser. Now had a desk and chair along with a bookshelf with dozens of books. Looking over them, reading the spines, a lot of them were by a Doctor Daniel Jackson. They couldn't mass produce the books for the public but they did produce them to help future SGC recruits.

It was then she noticed an open locket on his dresser by his bed. Chen told her about the locket but she's never seen it before. It was the beautiful young woman that caught her eye, her short platinum blonde hair in a bob, snow white skin that seemed to sparkle in the light. It was her and Corin sitting on some sort of park bench, her leaning on his shoulder, his arm around her shoulders.

"Her name is Andrea Mgnia," Corin said when he spotted Terra looking at the locket. Nova looked at Corin, who had come back into the room and closed the door.

"I didn't want to press," Nova explained. She always found it frustrating when people ask over and over again if they were ok even when they didn't want to talk about it. That was the reason she had opened up to Steven; he just hung around her until she seemed ok. He never pushed or insisted she do something she doesn't want and that made it easier to tell him. He admits he always hated waiting for an answer that may never come but she found the move to be comforting. She wanted to do the same for Corin. "How'd you guys meet?"

"Neighbors," Corin stated simply. "I know it's nothing spectacular but that's what it was. I mostly helped her move in and show her the colony."

"What was she like?" Nova asked, sitting down on Corin's bed.

"I don't really know what else to say other than amazing," he shrugged, sitting down beside Terra. "I was actually a lot angrier before I met her."

"Wait…really?" Terra stuttered. Corin had always been the pacifist of the team, always encouraging them to find peaceful solutions and not hate the enemies they fight. Hell, he still couldn't bring himself to even kill. Krell was his only exception but he would always freeze the moment he pointed a gun at someone. It was hard to imagine him being angry.

"Oh yeah. I always hated the way the Ror'char did things but Andrea taught me that just because I don't like the way the Ror'char do things doesn't mean that I have the right to do the same to fight them; two wrongs don't make a right, that stuff. She's the one that taught me there's always a peaceful solution. I guess the biggest thing inspired me was her stories about a friend of hers, a guy she called Dan. She said he was a close friend of hers that she knew from childhood. She said that he lost his way, that he still wants to help people but always goes about it the wrong way. I didn't want to be like that." Corin was about to continue but he stopped himself, remembering Nova's occupation.

"Corin?" Nova asked, noticing his hesitation.

"Don't take this the wrong way; most people think there's something strong about just using the violent solution to solve a problem. I know it's your job to fight but the stronger person is the one who finds a peaceful solution to a problem."

"No, I agree with that," Nova quickly said, nodding. "Soldiers only fight when it's believed there is no other choice. This is what Andrea believed, but what was she like?"

"Well if you met her you would've thought she her to be shy and innocent. She was very open to everyone, always. But she wasn't weak. She was a fighter and when things got bad she was always ready to stand her ground and fight." Corin's voice trailed off. He was awed by Andrea's fighting spirit and her devotion to what was right but he knew this was what got her killed. "He knew her," he muttered.

"What?"

"Exodan Krell; he said he grew up with Andrea. He knew her, grew up with her, was friends with her, and he still killed her. He was her friend and he betrayed her." He looked at Nova, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Terra, when the time comes, I want you to let me the one that kills him. Let me fight him. Don't get involved. I need to face him myself."

Nova wanted to speak but she couldn't find the words. Corin was no fighter in the slightest and he stood no chance.

"Alright," she finally said. "I'll try to let you fight him if and when the opportunity arises. If that's what you think Andrea would want you to do…"

Corin felt a shiver go down his spine when she said this. He was about to say something but he felt Nova's arms suddenly wrap around him. He stared at the wall behind her, no longer sure what to say. Finally he gave up, wrapping his arms around her in return.

-.-

Soren stretched back on the sofa he laid on, his feet kicked up on the arm rest, his hands folded behind his head. The humans of this expedition seemed to always know what to do with their lives. If they weren't working then they had something to do for fun. But the only three lives Soren knew was surviving the barren wastelands of his home country, surviving the streets as a murderer, and prison. Being free and a new member of this expedition, he didn't really know what to do with his time. He just sat back and relaxed. He didn't need to wear that gray long coat anymore so he was back in his blue sweat pants and black T-shirt.

"Hey," a cheerful voice called out. Soren leaned back and looked up, spotting Felger looking down on him. "There you are! What are you doing here?" Soren stared at Felger, not answering immediately.

"Just lost in thought," he said, leaning forward again. "I doubt I'll be called on for another mission and my official training does not start until tomorrow so I have nothing to do. Normally I would go out and practice my knife skills but I'm here so there's no point now." Soren gave a light chuckle at his comment. "No point…" he repeated. "Ah, forget it. Why are you here?"

"Well you were saying you didn't know who Butch and Sundance were," Felger said cheerfully. "I've submitted my blueprints so I'm free for the day so I thought we could watch the movie or something." Soren stopped to think for a moment. This was all new to him so he didn't know if this was considered normal.

From what gossip he's heard on Felger, the man was a complete failure who had only recently started his turn around. Still, that meant that many people were wary of him. Most found him to be a rambling headache and wanted to avoid him with a ten foot pole so Soren was wondering if he should to the same. Then again, he wasn't doing anything else.

"I guess that's ok," he grumbled, standing up from the sofa. He could see Felger practically jumping in excitement.

"There's a TV in the lounge at the base of the building," he jabbered excitedly. He practically skipped away with Soren slowly walking behind him. He walked up to the ark and punched in the destination. Felger skipped through and Soren followed, the two of the arriving at the base of the building. Felger immediately rushed on ahead but Soren stopped at the edge of the balcony they arrived at, looking down at the squad of guards walking through the hall. At the center of the squad were two non-human individuals clad in black armor: a sireen and an antenok. So the Ror'char delegation had arrived.

From there, the squad escorted the duo straight to the briefing room. The tails of their long coats gently swayed behind the Ror'char officers. Krell considered going to Millennium in a uniform but chose battle armor instead. The business should not take more than a day so no extra clothes were necessary.

Krell had not seen this briefing room in a long time. There must've been a firefight or something; the room still had traces of damage. It wasn't significant but it was still noticeable, the little scars in the table and walls.

General Mercer slowly stepped out from the corner that he stood behind, his arms folded behind his back. Nova walked in from another door, staring at their guests suspiciously. Commander Umar was right behind her.

"Shall we begin?" Mercer asked. Krell nodded and took a seat.

"Nice place you got here," Azoth remarked, still looking around. Krell was part of the first team to step onto Millennium but Azoth wasn't.

"Pity you won't be staying here," Nova remarked, taking a seat across the table. Azoth smirked at Nova's obvious sarcasm.

"Take it easy, missy. The Ror'char are too busy with other things to invade your city. You guys are small fry compared to the stuff we're busy with."

"Speaking of which," Krell interrupted. "Perhaps we should keep to the topic at hand."

"Agreed," Mercer echoed, taking a seat along with Umar. "To the matter at hand…"

"General," Umar interrupted. "If I may…why are you so willing to do this?"

"Do what?" Krell asked.

"Help us. You say that you will not only release Wolf Pack but release the members of our expedition that are saved. Why?"

"As I mentioned in my transmission: we have nothing to lose and everything to gain," Exodan explained. "We may be totalitarian but we aren't unjust. We do what we do because of necessity. And, keeping your people prisoner is not necessary. After what they go through in the hands of slavers, they deserve to see their friends and family again. I'm sure you can agree with this notion: punish the corrupt to dissuade further corruption while bringing monsters such as this to justice. It is a true pity we have to be on opposite sides."

Nova was so focused on finding the slavers that she nearly forgot. The reason the Ror'char had doubled their efforts was to find the two corrupt government officials.

"For now, we're on the same side," Mercer spoke up, his hands folding in front of him. "I trust the temporary quarters the guards have shown you will suffice."

"I wish we got quarters like that back at base," Azoth remarked. "Hell, I wouldn't mind working with you more often just to stay there."

"But for now, they will be fine," Krell cut in. "What of the slaver?"

"Our doctors have treated his injuries and he is currently in a holding cell," Umar explained.

"Our first goal should be to interrogate him," Krell barked. "According to our info, our fugitives are taking refuge in their slave market. That is where your friends are likely to be."

"Assuming they haven't been sold yet," Azoth added. His comment immediately received angry glares from both Umar and Nova. "What? No need to sugarcoat it. According to Nova, it's been several days since they disappeared. If we take too long, you might not find your friends at all."

Nova felt a chill go down her spine. She knew that this mission was urgent but it didn't really occur to her just how little time they had. A dread realization slowly filled her stomach like rising water at the thought they were already too late.

"How long do you think we have?" Mercer asked.

"We cannot say for sure," Krell answered. "The kidnapped are held at the market until they are sold. It usually takes several days but it is ultimately depends on how quickly a buyer comes."

"Leave finding the slave market to us," Mercer said stiffly. "Once we have its location, then what?"

"I mean no offense to your military capabilities but I strongly doubt you will have the ability to take down the entire market. A Ror'char strike force will eliminate the slavers and free the slaves."

"Well," Nova spoke up. "I'm pretty sure it goes without saying that we still want in on whatever operation you do."

"That is acceptable. If anything, I would actually prefer to work alongside…Wolf Pack for the mission," Krell said, pausing for a moment as he tried to remember the name of Nova's team. "Once we are done interrogating him, we shall-"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Nova called out. "What do you mean 'we'?"

"The crew of the Millennium shall be handling the interrogations," Mercer said calmly. The General's eyes narrow as he watches the two Ror'char officers exchange uncertain glances. "Is there a problem?"

"Offense very much intended, I've seen how you people operate," Azoth said. "Are you sure you'll be able to extract the info? We are on the clock you know."

"You especially," Krell added.

"We will handle the interrogations," Mercer repeated. "What military support will you be willing to provide when we attack the slave market?"

"Tracking down the slavers was my duty. I have amassed a squad of twenty troopers and a stryker. The stryker will scout the landscape and eliminate the watchtowers and heavy stationary weapons. Of our twenty, two of our snipers will eliminate watchtowers and enemy snipers. The ground forces will guard the gate while pushing forward to free the slaves. This will be an urban combat zone. We'll have noncombatants everywhere."

"Is gate travel their only means of travel?" Umar asked.

"It is the only one they trust. Ships run the risk of being followed. Some will undoubtedly have them but they will be small transports that the stryker will take down."

"We can assemble our forces on a neutral planet before the assault."

"Excellent. Then all we need is to locate the slave market."

"You leave that to us," Mercer said. "I will gather the department heads and discuss how we will go about interrogating our prisoner."

-.-

Back when Millennium was an actual city, these buildings were used to help make civilian life more convenient. Millennium wasn't like Atlantis. It was a civilian city. These buildings were probably stores and restaurants back during the city's prime. Now, they were just empty buildings. Soren chose to spend the rest of the day in one of these empty structures. He sat on a chair that had been built into the floor, his tools and equipment laid out on the table in front of him. The thunder rifle and maelstrom rifle were laid side by side, his hand axes laid out on the table. Along with that, he possessed an array of knives laid out like food at a buffet. Beside that was the Mjolnir hand cannon, nice reliable sidearm that could fire a single heavy mass or spread out its mass like a shotgun. The guns were parting gifts from the fierri government while the axes and knives were his back when he was a survivor and a murderer.

His gray long coat hung off a hook near the back. While it was given to him so he could blend in at the pirate haven, Soren had to admit he liked the way it looked.

Soren had decided to spend some time organizing his belongings. He still didn't have a room and only a handful of clothes provided to him by the expedition.

"Soren," a voice said. Soren looked up from his tools. Corin Nevec strolled in, his hands in his pockets. "See you made yourself at home."

"I strongly doubt General Mercer will allow me to make this my permanent residence," Soren said, examining his dagger. "I simply reside here until I get my own room. Why are you here?"

"I haven't really got a chance to check up on you," Corin remarked. He paused to see if Soren would say anything, but the fierri continued working with his equipment. "Uh…you know, General Mercer's reached a decision. After you do some team training in the chairs you'll be assigned to the Berserkers. They're a close quarters spec ops team."

"I know," Soren grunted before falling silent once more. Corin was quietly groaning to himself over Soren's terrible communication skills. If Nevec was going to want to talk to him, he was going to need another way to do it. Well, there was something he always wanted to say.

"I know it's been a while but I wanted to thank you for listening, for not killing them."

Soren simply grunted in response, setting down the knife.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you decide to listen to me?" Corin asked. Soren didn't answer, only grumbling at the question. Ok, so that didn't work. "Uh…tell me about your brother," Corin said, trying to change the subject. If Soren didn't like answering questions, he could just get the answers through idle conversation.

"What about him?" Soren grunted.

"You said that the survivors who were veterans of the Genesis War trained you guys, the youngest of the survivors, from childhood to be weapons to strike back at Valken," Corin recited. "But I never hear you talking about his training. It could be because you don't talk much at all though."

"He wasn't trained," Soren said, picking up a long strand of steel wire with wooden rods at either end. "Davic's lungs were weak and he couldn't do the training the others wanted of him. You…are like him in many ways. He was a pacifist who did not believe in fighting. The elements killed the other survivors. He and I became the last. After his passing…you know the rest."

"How did they intend on taking down an entire country?' Corin asked. "There couldn't have been that many of you."

"There weren't. The plan was to infiltrate their society and destabilize it. After Davic's death, I put that plan into motion. I infiltrated Valken. I started with about a dozen civilians, testing the waters, making sure I can get away after the kill and learning the landscape. Once I was confident I began taking out guards around their government facilities and military bases, trying to instill fear in the populace. If these went well enough, I would have tried my hand at a government official. I followed the original plan."

Corin stared at Soren. The way he spoke about the other survivors, there was something different in his voice. Nevec couldn't place his finger on it, at least not at first. Then if finally occurred to him.

"You hate them too. The other survivors, you hate them too, don't you?"

"What makes you come to that conclusion?" Soren scoffed, putting down the garrote and picking up a dagger with a ring in the middle to put the middle finger.

"Having to grow up in the ruins of civilization was probably bad enough of a childhood but then they try to turn you guys into living weapons to use against Valken. They used you."

"You're actually mistaken. I fully supported this endeavor. Despite my brother's disapproval, I wanted to help make Valken pay for what happened. It was Jarl, our designated leader, who opposed the idea. He felt that getting consumed by the notion of vengeance would destroy us, even plant the seeds of future conflict."

"He's right," Corin agreed. "Following their plan would give the people of Valken a reason to hate you. It would justify the Genesis War for them. If any of the countries managed to pull through, this would just make them want to go back to fighting. So what happened?"

"In the end, Jarl had the men training us exiled," Soren explained. "We found what was left of their bodies a few days later." Corin looked at the ground sadly.

"He wanted you guys to have a better future. He was trying to help you guys."

"His 'help' was not wanted," Soren sneered. "He should've left us as we were."

"I thought you regretted becoming a mass murderer," Corin said.

"I do now, but at the time his actions were against my interest. Leader or not, his help was not wanted."

"He saw you were making a mistake and, as leader, he did something about it. As a leader, he's responsible for you and it was his job to do what's best for you."

"Even if their help is not wanted?"

"Sometimes a leader has to do something that the people they lead don't like for their own good."

"Funny you, of all people, would say this," the fierri said. "Do you not oppose our current enemy for harboring that very same ideology?"

-.-

Krell grazed the metal pedestal, staring at the white opal at the center. He looked up at the hologram hovering above it, a cloud of different atoms floating about. This room must've held the treaty written by all four races in the universal language. He hadn't the slightest idea what this all meant. Perhaps Andrea's husband would. She always told him he loved this stuff.

"You called for me?"

Krell looked up at the sound of the voice. Terra Nova had walked into the room. Krell looked away from the pedestal and faced her.

"Major Nova," Exodan greeted with a bow. "I'm glad you came. I must say, you usually keep your hair up in the field. You look lovely with it down" Normally Terra would be fond of compliments like this but she was not fond of who it was coming from. The sireen folded his hands behind his back and began to pace the room. "It was never really my hobby but Andrea told me her husband always loved studying the cultures and histories of other civilizations." Nova could not help but flinch when Krell mentioned Andrea. She could never imagine bringing herself to shoot her own friends but Krell somehow did it.

"What about it?" Terra asked.

"I wish to know more about the Goa'ld," he said. Nova looked around uncomfortably, glancing at the guards near the entrance to the chamber they were in. She knew she had to be careful when it came to giving out information, especially to the enemy. But what harm could tell him about the Goa'uld do?

"Can I ask why?"

Krell raised an eyebrow at her hostile tone. He knew they were on opposite sides but it was beginning to seem the Ror'char had more respect for them than they did for the Ror'char.

"Curiosity," Exodan Krell answered. "Alien civilizations may not be my field but I am still curious about what waits beyond the horizons of our galaxy."

"Alright," Nova said, making up her mind. She won't give out any battle strategies or names. She would only give a brief description of their biology and what they wanted. "Back in our galaxy, the Goa'uld were a parasitic race that took human hosts to live in. They enslaved people from all across the galaxy, setting themselves up as gods to be worshiped."

"I see," Krell said thoughtfully. "What of their soldiers? Were they blissfully ignorant or were they aware of their master's deception?"

"The jaffa thought the Goa'uld were gods," Nova answered. "We took out the Goa'uld and freed all their slaves and jaffa, showed them the truth." Nova could see Krell shift uncomfortably. "Something wrong?" she asked.

"And you never once second guessed these actions?" Krell asked with a raised eyebrow. "You never stopped to consider what you were doing is wrong?"

"I get what you're doing," Terra interrupted. "You're still trying to convince me that your way is better."

"I am trying to show you your hypocrisy."

Nova felt her jaw drop at this statement. She could not think how liberating beaten and tortured slaves was being a hypocrite. She actually felt that their current mission to hunt down the slavers was much like the SGC's old missions to take out the Goa'uld.

"How?" she barked.

"You judge us for forcing our will upon other civilizations, to have them live in a form we see better," Krell explained. "I suspected it before but you have proven my suspicions that you and your people have done it before."

"You are forcing people to live under your government," Nova argued. "We were overthrowing people posing as gods and enslaving and killing millions of people. They aren't the same at all?"

"No?" Exodan asked slyly. "After you overthrew these Goa'uld, what system of government did you put in place?"

"Democracy."

"Because you viewed it as a far better form than the tyranny they were currently living under. So you too have forced people to live under a government system you saw as better."

Krell knew this concept all too well. He has already lived under a total of three governments. He has seen first hand nations ousting other nations because of their supposedly corrupt or defective government. The Ror'char were very much the same with one massive difference: the Ror'char could produce results.

"Unlike you, we didn't force it upon anyone," Terra said. "People don't want to join your Sovereignty."

"Any more than the jaffa who worshiped the Goa'uld wanted your freedom."

"That's because they were being lied!" Terra argued. "They thought their way of life was better but it was all a lie. There's no way you can argue that a person should not have the right to dictate their own lives!"

Krell gave a smile at this comment. He paced around a bit, looking back at the hologram of the elements.

"You are right," he said. "I do believe people should have the right to dictate their own lives. I believe when two men talk of politics they should embrace each other as brothers who want the best for their Sovereignty, even if they disagree on how to do it. I believe when a politician takes a position of power, his mind should be on how he can benefit his nation and people and not his wallet. I believe there are many things that should be but are not. This is something I believe we can both agree."

"Fair enough," Terra said, folding her arms across her chest. "But that doesn't excuse you conquering the galaxy."

"It's interesting that condemn us for how we choose to go about these beliefs," Krell observed. "We are taking the same actions as you, we just have a different solution to this galaxy's problems.

Nova stared at the sireen in confusion. Part of her could not help but wonder if the Ror'char were this determined to convince every civilization and group they come across to join them without fighting.

"What're you talking about?" Terra asked. Krell walked up to the Air Force Major. He wasn't particularly tall but neither was she. If anything, she was shorter than most.

"Condemn our way or rule all you want but you cannot condemn our actions without damning your own as well," he said. "We are one and the same: trying to bring order and justice to a chaotic and unjust universe. Our preferred governing methods may be different but our goals and the means we achieve them are identical. If we are evil for what we are doing, then what you have done is equally damning."

The Ror'char Overlord stood back up and slowly strolled out of the room, not even taking a glance back.

-.-

Hours passed and Overlord Krell found himself impatiently waiting in his guest quarters. He sniffed the coffee from the mug he held before taking a sip and setting it back down on the table.

"You know," Azoth said, pacing the room, combing the bookshelf in their assigned quarters. "We should reschedule our plan on when we intend to annex these people if only to get coffee."

"Now is not the time for such drivel," Krell said, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. His mind still lingered on the conversation in the briefing room and the one with Major Nova. "I still strongly doubt these people's ability to acquire the necessary information."

"They're probably tougher than you think," Azoth remarked, taking out a book from the shelf and showing it to Krell. The black book only had a pair of hands holding out an apple on the cover with the word 'Twilight' written at the top. "Check this book out. I'd recommend forcing our prisoners to read this as a form of interrogation but that would be too cruel even by Ror'char standards."

"Overlord Azoth," Krell barked. "I believe we should focus on the matter at hand. I do not trust these outlaws with the interrogation of the slaver."

"What, you think they're serious about this?"

"No, I don't doubt their sincerity. But they are too focused on limiting the available methods. Azoth, if you were a first responder that got an urgent call, would you still obey the rules and regulation of the road, or would you hurry to the site with all haste? To hold yourself back by doing things such as obeying the speed limit may result in the death of whoever you intended to save. The rules of morality must be overlooked in order to protect the innocent."

"So what do you plan on doing?"

"Something that will benefit everyone."

-.-

"It's all over."

"Then why don't you kill me, coward?"

"Not yet; not until you answer our questions. Then we'll put you out of your misery."

"You kidding me. You people are pathetic! You guys really need to find an easier line of work if you really are this nut-less. You could try knitting."

-.-

There were a thousand insults Terra wanted to scream at the man. He wouldn't give his name but even if he had she would never dirty her own mouth by saying it. She wanted to storm into the room and pummel the man with his own arrogance. Military officers, professional interrogators, psychologists, he laughed in all their faces, goading them for their helplessness.

Nova glanced through the observation window into the interrogation room one last time before turning around and leaving. The mere sight of the man made her stomach churn. It sickened her to think that a person could stomach the notion of kidnapping people and selling them to make a quick fortune. Worse, this person made a living out of it, kidnapping the innocent and unsuspecting. She could only imagine what his victims were going through after being torn away from their families and everything they knew and sold to who knows who to go through who knows what.

She made her way to the lounge where the rest of her team awaited.

"So now what?" Corin asked.

"Mercer's making rounds with all the department heads," Chen explained.

"This guy knows where we can find the slavers and their market," Nova added. "It's just an issue of making him spill."

"Ok…" Martin muttered, taking in the information. "Then what's taking so long? I thought we would be interrogating him by now." Martin watched Nova give an uncomfortable sigh. She knew something that he was not going to like. "Major?" he asked.

"Right now we're facing an issue of…how we're going to interrogate him," she explained. "Different countries, different laws involving interrogation, and some are pushing for enhanced interrogation."

The mere mention of this nearly knocked Martin and Corin over in shock.

"Torture?!" Corin barked. "We're actually thinking about resorting to torture?!"

"It's not decided yet," Terra Nova quickly added. "But the suggestion is on the table."

"It shouldn't be on the table to begin with!" Martin snapped. "It's barbaric!"

"What's the issue?" Chen asked with a raised eyebrow. Corin and Martin looked at him in pure shock.

"You're actually ok with this?"

"That man…no…that creature makes a living off kidnapping people and SELLING THEM!" Chen snarled. "Torture? Sounds more like karma to me."

"He's a person just like us," Corin argued.

"One who's willing to destroy lives just to make a quick buck…"

Corin and Charles exchanged glances. They had disagreed on things in the past but they thought they would all agree on this at the very least.

"We're not torturing them for fun," Chen said as calmly as he could. "We're trying to find and save the slaves that haven't been sold yet."

"Major, help us on this," Martin called out. Nova was the team leader so maybe she could sway Chen. But what she said shocked him even more.

"Martin, if this gets us the information we need we'd be saving God knows how many lives."

Coring felt his eyes widen and his jaw drop.

"You're actually ok with this?" he stuttered.

"We don't have to brand them with a hot iron," she said. "We could use a more civil method; waterboarding or something."

"How is that any better?!" Martin roared. "It's still torture. It's still cruel."

"If you're worried about physical harm, we can put him in one of the VR chairs," Chen grunted. "We'll do the interrogation there. No harm at all."

"Torture is about making the subject suffer," Corin explained. "You don't need to physically harm the person. If we put him in the VR and started chopping off his fingers in it or waterboarded him, he wouldn't suffer any physical harm but it's still torture."

"So in order to save innocent lives, he has to suffer for his crimes. I'm heartbroken," Nova said coldly. "He's not going to tell us just because we asked nicely so we need to put a little pressure on him."

"That's immoral!" Martin barked.

"Ok, Charles," Chen spoke up. "Let's say that it was your family, your parents, someone you care about that's been kidnapped by these slavers and the only one who knows where they are, the only means of getting them back, is tied in a chair in front of you. You love your younger sister. Can you look me in the eye and tell me with a straight face you are willing to just let her be sold just because of your morality? Or, I'm sorry, do morals only apply when it's someone we don't care about?"

Chen's words clearly touched a nerve. Martin bolted up so quickly he knocked over the sofa he was sitting on. Nova and Corin prepared to hold him back but it looked like Martin had enough self-control this time.

-.-

Krell marched down the hall, his arms folded behind his back, his coat flapping with each step. The soldier escorting him thought this was a little odd but he didn't do anything wrong yet. The sireen did only say he wanted to use the bathroom. But, why was he taking the long way around?

"Sir?" the soldier asked when Krell stopped. Krell looked down the hall that he knew led to the interrogation room. Krell had explored this city before and knew his way around for the most part.

"Tell me something?" Krell spoke. "Do you have family where you come from?"

"Divorced but I have a son and daughter," the soldier said.

"Siblings?"

"Younger brother."

"And how far will you go for their sake?"

"Why are you asking this?" the guard asked suspiciously.

"I simply wanted to make sure you understand what I'm about to do," Krell answered. The sireen's right hand clenched into a fist. In a single motion he whipped around and smashed it against the face of the guard, sending the human stumbling backwards. Krell rushed forward again. The guard had a gun and he was unarmed. His only advantage was the close proximity. Not only that, if the guard fires the gun at all, the noise will attract attention.

Krell rushed forward and seized the rifle, jamming his right hand behind the trigger of the weapon as the guard fought back. At close range like this, melee weapons and hand to hand combat dominate. But the gun can double as a melee weapon if you knew how to use it correctly. The guard was trained to use a rifle like this, but Krell was better trained. The guard tried to ram the stock of the gun into his opponent but the Ror'char Overlord had expected this. He dropped his weight and let the stock slide over his head. With another swift motion, Krell took advantage of the momentum and jammed the barrel of the gun into the man's face. It was only a stun but it was enough. He drove his left fist right up the man's jaw, sending him to the ground.

Krell looked at the unconscious man, gently placing the rifle on his chest.

"I do not envy the headache you will wake up with," the alien remarked, turning around and marching to the interrogation room.

-.-

The large cylindrical room was empty short of a table with two chairs on either end. The prisoner, the slaver, sat at in one chair, his hands cuffed in front of him. They had put him into a blue jumpsuit to make sure he had no more tricks hiding up his sleeve, the remains of the teleporter sent to the labs.

The slaver was left with nothing, nothing to do and nothing to get him paid. He was furious that these people were getting in his way.

He looked at the locked door. He could hear yelling coming from outside. Something was going on. There was a hiss as the door finally opened, Krell stepping in with the guard's body slumping through the door. He pushed the unconscious guard back out the door before closing it behind him.

"Hello there," Krell greeted, slowly walking up to the table. Every space pirate feared the Ror'char for their ruthlessness. But when the slaver saw Krell…he laughed.

"Really? This now?! Man, I don't even think 'pathetic' describes these people. Dressing someone like a Ror'char Overlord? Really?"

A smile spread over Krell's face. So this man thinks he was only dressed as Overlord.

"Hey," the slaver called. "What's your name?"

"Krell. I am Exodan Krell."

"Hey, how much did these idiots pay you? Aside from the no-neck freak, you're the only non-human I've seen."

"None at all," Krell said rather cheerfully. "I do find it interesting that you think I'm just an imposter."

"Why would the Ror'char ever work with these idiots?"

"Sometimes you have to take the lesser of two evils. And between a band of outlaws whose objective is to simply wander around the galaxy and a band of slavers, I think the choice is obvious."

Krell could see the slaver pale.

"You're not convincing me," the human said.

"I don't need you to be convinced. I only need you to tell me where the market is."

"And if I don't?" the slaver laughed. "You gonna get on your knees and beg?"

To the man's surprise, Krell actually went to one knee. His eyes bulged, trying to hold back a laugh. Was this the new interrogation tactic? But then Krell pulled off the metal plate from the heel of his boot before taking out what several small metal trinkets from hidden the compartment inside. He placed the plate back on the heel of his boot before repeating the same process with the other. He took all the metal items and placed them on the table in front of the slaver.

"I promised the General of these space pirates that I would not bring any weapons to their city," Krell explained as he began to assemble the metal pieces. "This, however, is a kitchen utensil: a hand-cranked meat grinder." Krell presented the metal hammer-shaped item with a crank attached to the side. The slaver could tell the ends of what would be the hammer head was where you would feed the meat through and it would grind it up before ejecting it from the other side.

The slaver looked at Krell, fear filling his eyes. He felt like an idiot for ever doubting this sireen to be a Ror'char officer. The man who once seemed like a feeble imposter had revealed himself to be an imposing monster that loomed over him. Hell had opened to release its finest demon to hunt the wicked. He wanted to scream, try to catch the attention of the guards, but his mouth could only tremble. He struggled in his chair, hoping something would come loose and let him run.

"You will tell me where the slave market is," Krell said darkly. "How much you scream until then is up to you."

-.-

"Steven," Corin said, trying to calm the situation. "We don't even know if he'll tell the truth. He might just lie to end the torture." Corin looked at Nova and Chen, hoping one of them would agree.

"That doesn't change much," Terra replied. "So if we go through with this we might or might not get what we need. But if we don't we'll never find out where that market is. Remember, Loadstone is on the clock. If we take too long, they could be sold by the time we get to them. We need to find the information now."

"What about brain probes?" Martin suggested. "We can just download all the info we need."

"Great plan," Chen said with a sarcastic nod. "But our brain probes don't work yet and the Ror'char never found the blueprints for them."

"If you're referring to Anubis's mind probes, he knew how to build them because he ascended," Nova pointed out.

"Kara says there's a high chance of putting the subject into a coma and there's no guarantee we'll get the info," Chen added. "You really want to risk losing our only link to the slavers?"

Martin was about to argue further but the intercom crackled to life.

"Security and medical teams to the interrogation room," Donavan's voice announced.

"I'll take anything over this," Nova muttered, storming out of the room with her team in tow. They rushed for the interrogation room, knowing that is where they left the slaver. A small platoon of soldiers had already arrived on scene, assault rifles at the ready. As they approached the room, they saw a pair of guards escort Krell out, the Overlord's hands in the air. Nova couldn't see in but she could see a group of doctors running around the room. Mercer stormed up to Krell, Soren and a small group of body guards behind him.

"General Mercer," Krell greeted, putting his hands down to give a bow.

"I hope you have a good explanation for this, Overlord," Mercer said darkly.

"I do indeed," Krell replied with a smile. "I have obtained the location of the slave market."

Nova could feel everyone's expression change. Some of the guards smiled in approval. Others smirked in disgust.

"I believe I told you to leave the interrogation to us," Mercer hissed, his eyes narrowing.

"Apologies but you were taking too long. I took the course of action that benefits both of us."

"I let you into my city, trusted you to not do anything against us…"

"And I didn't," Krell said. "I did take an action you did not approve of but I didn't do anything against you. I did what was best for you…best for both of us…best for everyone, despite your disapproval."

"You assaulted two of our guards and broke into our interrogation room."

"Your guards are alive with minor injuries and now we have the location of the market. You can disapprove of my actions but I did nothing against you."

Mercer glared at Krell suspiciously. It was true he didn't do anything but he could not abide the Ror'char stepping outside their bounds like this.

"You tortured him?!" Martin exclaimed, realized Krell's hands were covered in blood. He spotted one of the guards walking away with some sort of hand-cranked grinder. A doctor was carefully escorting the prisoner down the hall, bloody bandages covering the stumps where his hands used to be. Martin peered into the room and immediately had to stop himself from vomiting. If he described the scene as a 'bloody mess' it wasn't Australian slang he would be using.

"Where're his hands?" he asked as Doctor Osborn came out of the room. She glanced back in, shaking her head at the stains that slathered the floor like spilled paint.

"I don't want to sound callous," she said. "But...everywhere." Martin could feel anger surging through him like a flood. Krell didn't chop off the prisoner's hands. He had ground it into paste and it was slathered all across the interrogation room in the panicked man's struggles. In the SGC's long history and even Atlantis's, they had always done everything they could to avoid torture. Even when Atlantis was nearly bombed by the Trust, Weir regretted even considering the method. Now Krell just did it in their interrogation room like it was nothing.

"I extracted the information from him," Krell corrected. "As soldiers, you of all people should understand the concept of doing something ugly to bring about something good. Among my people there is a saying: those who possess power inherit responsibility. We both have the power to rescue the slaves so it is our responsibility to do so. Fail in this and the blame falls upon us."

"What if he lied?" Nova asked. "What if that's not the planet?"

"I will order a ship to go to the planet and perform an orbital scan. If the slaver lied to us, we need only punish him for his deception before resuming interrogation," Krell explained. "But if he was sincere with us, you will find this data to be quite...handy." He turned to the aging general, waiting for a response. "Will this be acceptable, General?"

Mercer maintained his glare. If was fortunate looks could not kill, else the sheer venom coming out of Mercer's eyes would poison everyone in the hallway. He had left it to the Department Heads to figure out how they would interrogate the slaver. If they chose to use torture, the General had no issue with that. He only took issue that Krell chose to act behind his back. He was the expedition's leader, tasked with protecting everyone. If he could allow something like this to happen then his influence was lacking.

"We will proceed to plan our assault," the General finally said. "Then, I want you out of my city."

"That is acceptable," Krell said with a bow. He looked at Nova to see her reaction, but she could only return a blank stare.

-.-

Dusk Riders, Wolf Pack, Berserkers, Spartans, all these teams gathered and prepped them for action. They all met on the neutral planet, setting up tents in the grassy fields, waiting for the Ror'char troopers to arrive. Crates of weapons were stacked, the soldiers organizing the weapons. Only the combat certified were being allowed to join. That means three members of Wolf Pack and two members of the Dusk Riders. The Berserkers and Spartans were combat teams composed of Special Forces from several different countries. That meant fifteen Millennium soldiers. Azoth and Krell were also there, already waiting for their twenty troops to arrive.

"The armor of our fallen warriors," Krell commented as he observed the Nova dawning the Ror'char armor they've collected in the past.

"We wear these on our military missions," Nova explained, straightening her spaulders. She remembered the Ror'char suits of armor were the main reason they had so much trouble fighting the Ror'char. These things also acted as power armor, mechanical joints assisting in movement. It gave a small strength and speed boost but it definitely helped endurance since their limbs didn't have to exert nearly as much effort. Upon that, the soft malleable armor would absorb half the energy from weapons fire and use it to harden itself. It would take nearly an entire magazine to put down just one. This was a massive help in firefights and were worn during important military missions. In fact, they were pulling all the stops. The Spartans were busy arming themselves with drop-shields while the Berserkers were passing out the plasma-tipped ammo. One of the Spartans picked up a massive ballistic shield. Redesigned with alien materials, it was lighter and stronger than regular ballistic shields and could withstand even energy weapons, built from the ground up with knowledge of the kull armor.

Umar was double checking his M249, a light machine gun he's been wanting to use. Meanwhile, Hailey was strapping her latest invention to her left wrist.

"What is that?" Chen asked curiously, spotting a small rectangular screen standing up from Hailey's left wrist.

"We've been messing around with the life sign detectors they used back on Atlantis," Jennifer explained. "I not only made it better; I made it smaller." Smaller indeed, the new scanner Hailey had was a quarter of the size of the life signs detector, half the length and half the width. What's more, she folded the screen down onto her forearm, the black rectangle being a perfect fit. "With this, I can scan through walls to see if there's anyone on the other side."

The SGC had accumulated a fair number of alien technology over the years. After studying these things for so long, they've begun producing it for their own purposes. And when it came to operations such as these, they pull out all their prototypes for testing.

There was a mighty 'whoosh' as the gate activated, the unstable vortex surging from the wormhole before being sucked back in into a glimmering blue puddle. Everyone turned to look at the gate as rows of Ror'char troopers came marching through, their heavy footsteps echoing across the fields like war drums. They came marching out in rows of two, each of them with an ion rifle slung from their waists like swords.

The first two trooper marched up to Krell and Azoth while the rest of them assumed formations in front of the gate.

"Alright then," Exodan said after listening to the troopers' report. The two troopers went to assume formation while Nova, Hailey, and Umar went to the two Ror'char Overlords to see what was going on.

"An orbital probe confirms our suspicions," Krell announced. "There is a slave market on the planet in question."

"Can they locate Loadstone?" Umar asked.

"There are at least three hundred slaves currently in processing. It's near impossible to tell if your friends are among them."

Nova and Hailey both turned to face Christopher, waiting for his command.

"You're the ranking officer here," Nova reminded him. Umar nodded, telling her he understood his responsibilities.

"We will proceed as planned," he told Krell. "We will join you in this assault."

A wicked smile spread over Krell's face. The Millennium outlaws were in agreement.

"Don't you just love it when a plan comes together?" Azoth chuckled, twirling his blast cannon.

-.-

"Come on, move!"

Somewhere on a distant planet, the warm grassy fields that used to be so welcoming seemed to mock the suffering of the recently sold slave. While icthyans could operate in hot and dry environment, it was rather discomforting. Just buy a slave and leave all the hard work to them. If they succumb to the heat, so be it.

The icthyan pulled on the chain that linked their three products together, rags covering their bodies and bags over their heads to make it impossible to know who they were or even what species they were. The vagrant and homeless who would not be missed or even teenagers and young adults who were a little too careless, they were all perfect prey for slavers. The two icthyans walked up to the DHD, the silver pedestal mounted in the dirt in the middle of the field. One of them was about to begin dialing when the sound of the activating stargate caught their attention.

The icthyan pulling the chain did nothing while the other drew his pistols, not aiming it at the wormhole but still having it at the ready. Chances are it was just another buyer. But even other buyers were dangerous since they might think it's better to kill you and take the slaves you just bought rather than to buy new ones.

The two icthyans stood ready, one of them with weapon in hand. They expected another buyer. They were not prepared for the grey-skinned sireen that stepped through the gate, his arms folded behind his back, the tails of his black long coat swaying behind him as he stepped out. The sireen looked at the two icthyans, his oily black eyes narrowing into a glare.

"Good evening," he said darkly, his right hand reaching into his coat as he took another few steps forward.

Five feet from the target with a DHD in the way.

Three feet of additional reach with his oscillator blade.

0.6 seconds to raise the pistol.

0.2 seconds to pull the trigger.

Krell quickly ran these statistics through his mind. He could not let these buyers fire and alert the market that something was happening. Luckily, the situation favored him. But he had to act first. Krell charged forward as the icthyan at the DHD raised his pistol. Krell extended the blade and sliced through the air as he drew the weapon from his coat, the sword cutting straight through the extended arm, the weapon clattering against the DHD as it fell. The icthyan was in so much shock he couldn't even scream over his arm being sliced off. He didn't need to though. Krell raised his blade and took aim before driving it forward, driving the tip into the man's throat. Krell picked up his boot and shoved off the filth that was dirtying his weapon. He turned to face the other icthyan…

"Wait!" the icthyan cried out desperately, tossing down the chain that he held. He quickly drew his pistol but tossed that aside as well. "I surrender! Just don't kill me!" The icthyan threw his hands in the air to show he was unarmed. Krell looked at the icthyan slave buyer curiously, walking up to him, his sword still at the side. Krell put his hand on the man's shoulder reassuringly…before pressing the blade of his sword against the man's throat and pushing it through.

The wormhole warbled as Ror'char troopers and Millennium soldiers began to come through, just in time to see the body and severed head of the icthyan hit the ground.

Immediately two troopers quickly moved in to free the three slaves, using their buzz blades to slice through the chains.

"You two," Azoth ordered the troopers. "Guard this gate. Apprehend anyone who tries to get through!" The two troopers stood at attention and gave a bow, signaling they understood the order.

The last of the forces stepped through the gate, immediately running to the side, knowing what else was coming through.

Even from there, they could see the slave market in the distance. It looked like a small village, hundreds of wooden huts set up. No. Huts were small and the size of a house. These structures were anywhere between one to five stories high, huge wooden towers with snipers keeping a lookout. Nova could see dozens of cages of all different sizes and even a circular pit at the center. This place was never meant to be a permanent residence. It was meant to simply sell people kidnapped from all across the galaxy. She will not shed a tear wiping this place off the map.

"As planned," Umar said to Krell with a nod. Krell smiled. He had been looking forward to this day for a long time. The Ror'char forces immediately deployed, two groups of ten troopers running off in opposite directions. The Millennium forces also began to spread out. They were going to surround the market and hit it from all sides at the same time. No escape.

Martin cocked his HK417. They would be moving in on the camp. He would stay back and pick off targets from a distance.

Terra, Charles, and Steven stood side by side, looking at the market in disgust.

"You gonna be good back here?" she asked Martin. He simply gave a chuckle and got down to his stomach, his rifle aimed at the market.

"Oh, I got this," he said.

Chen and Nova exchanged glances. The fighting hadn't even started and they could feel adrenaline shooting through their blood. They were anxious, itching to do something. Their reflexes were sharpening, their muscles ready to fight. The Ror'char should be in position by now which only left one thing.

There was a roar as a dull brown flattened pod shot through the gate, the sides of the pod extending out like wings before it blasted into the air with a boom that rattled the landscape. The stryker had arrived.

"Alright, people!" Umar boomed. "Move out!"

Weapons at the ready, they rushed for the camp. It wasn't a blind rush. They weren't charging in head first. But they had to cross the landscape and find cover. If they had just been a regular enemy encampment, they could fight them from there. But there were hostages that they needed to rescue.

The first sniper tower exploded in a massive ball of fire, the stryker swooping down like a bird of prey and firing upon the wooden structure, the green bolts hitting the tower and demolishing it in a brilliant inferno. The strkyer flew past, flying into the distance before turning around for another run. The Ror'char styker may be capable of flying several times the speed of sound but it needed to fly a little slower attacking targets of this size without horrible collateral damage. Despite this, it was still whizzing through the skies, annihilating the guard towers with each run.

Nova had lost track of Hailey, and Umar in the charge. She could only hope they were ok. For now, she had to focus on the fight in front of her. Each team was sticking together. It may have been chaotic but there was method to the madness. They had to clear each building one by one and make sure none of the pirates get away. The Martin and the two Ror'char snipers could handle the runners but they had to focus on clearing. She and Chen ran up to a nearby building and threw themselves against it. She could already feel the air being shredded by the deafening sound of gunfire. She could feel each bang send ripples across her skin until it just felt like her body was vibrating from the violence. She could see the Spartans preparing to breach another building, lining up behind the shield carrier.

Azoth, the hulking antenok, had managed get to in close with some of the slavers, seizing one in a tight embrace and hoisting the man onto his shoulder before crushing the man's spine. Krell calmly walked across the battlefield, a single carnifex pistol in hand but he was slaughtering slavers left and right.

A slaver leapt around the corner, machete in hand, intent on driving the weapon into Krell's skull. But Exodan effortlessly blocked the man's wrist, quickly bringing the carnifex up and shooting a massive prong into his attacker's wrist. The slaver screamed in pain, letting Krell bring his pistol up and putting a prong right through the man's left eye.

Nova had to focus on the task at hand. She had to have faith her teammates could handle themselves.

She peeked through the window of the building. It was some sort of mess hall and the people inside were in a panic. Chen gave Nova's shoulder a squeeze, indicating he was ready for the breach. She smashed the window with the butt of her SPAS-12 before leaping in. Chen immediately followed.

A few commands was all she needed, everyone inside dropping to the floor, hands over their heads. Between the way everyone was dressed and the chaos happening around her, she didn't have the luxury of differentiating who was friend and who was foe. All she could do was apprehend everyone and sort out who was who after. Suddenly, one of the men grabbed a knife from the table and rushed at her. There was no thought, only instinct. She fired and the man fell to the floor in a heap.

She and Chen leapt over the counter and assembled at the door that led to the kitchen. She gave a nod. He gave a squeeze. They burst through the door.

-.-

Martin still lay in the grassy field. Sniping may sound safe on paper but it was just as dangerous as being down there. Staring through the scope, this was tunnel vision so bad that if someone did see him and want to take him out, he won't know until it was too late. He had to stay calm under fire too. They could spray his direction would automatic weapons, one shot being all that it took. He, on the other hand, had to make sure his shot landed true. More than that, he still had to be accurate while sniping his targets.

He spotted a man running off in the distance, two people in tow. Considering the clothes of the guy who was running looked like they had just come out of the wash and the guys behind him were wearing rags, he could guess who the bad guy was. Still, it was their job to defuse the situation, not just slaughter. He lined the shot.

Inhale.

Adjust the rifle a half degree, keeping the cross hairs slightly in front of the man.

Exhale.

The winds were light. He measured the distance with his eyes. He adjusted his rifle to compensate.

Inhale.

Fire.

Martin gently squeezed the trigger, the rifle ramming back into his shoulder. He watched as the man stopped and clung to his buttocks as he fell over. The two people running with them stopped in their tracks and cowered.

"Lieutenant Martin," a female voice said through the radio. "This is Captain Tolinev. Some of the slavers are using human shields."

Martin adjusted his scope back to the camp. He looked around for a bit before spotting what she was talking about. Some of the slavers were fighting behind the slaves they had, cowering behind the person while firing their guns past their shoulders. There was no way for them to engage. It was up to him. He lined up the shot.

He had to time it right. If the man moved right as he pulled the trigger, his hostage was dead.

Inhale.

He hovered his crosshairs over the man. The slaver was actually staying still, counting on his shield to discourage people from fighting him.

Exhale.

The man readjusted his position to aim at someone else. Martin did the same with his own aim. The target was now even smaller. He could afford no error.

Inhale.

Hold.

The gun froze in his hand as he held his breath, keeping his weapon steady.

Fire.

The dust around him practically jumped as he squeezed the trigger. He could see the man's head explode like a watermelon through the scope.

-.-

Hailey and Umar ran up to the door, pressing themselves against the wall. Hailey propped up her scanner from her wrist, aiming it at the building.

"Three life signs heading for the door!" she told Umar. Her voice was becoming hoarse form all the yelling but she had to make sure he could hear her over the deafening sounds of gunfire from the other parts of the market. She prepped the x699 while Umar got his machine gun ready. She could see the blips moving for. She didn't know if they were slaves on the run, slavers trying to run, or slaver charging to join the fight. The moment that door opens they'll have only a fraction of a second to figure it out and react accordingly. The life signs were at the door and she watched as the metal rectangle opened. The moment the slavers stepped out and noticed the two people pointing weapons at them, they immediately threw their hands in the air and surrendered.

"Stay down!" Umar ordered as he and Hailey moved in to secure the prisoners. Suddenly, bright blue bolts of energy flew out of the wood shack. Hailey and Umar threw themselves to the ground as the wall erupted with weapons fire, splinters raining on the two of them. They were behind cover in the sense they couldn't be seen. But it didn't mean they couldn't be shot. Of course it went both ways. The slaver inside could shoot them but they could shoot him. All they needed to do was see him. Hailey aimed her scanner at the wall. There was only one life sign left inside the shack. The shooter may not know where they were but she could see where he was. She aimed her weapon at the life sign and fired, the bolts of energy burning through the wood and flying through like it was paper. The weapons fire stopped and a moment later, she heard a thud from inside.

-.-

Escape from the slave market was impossible. It was the end of the line. The only choices were to fight and die or surrender. Still, that didn't stop some people from trying to run. The human, Vosk, wasn't wearing his nice and tidy uniform, wearing a pair of ragged suspenders over his orange shirt. He was throwing as much money as he could into a suitcase. He only had a matter of time before they found him.

"Hello, Vosk."

Too late.

Vosk whipped around, spotting Krell stepping into the building. He had broken off from his team just to see Vosk in person.

"Dan," Vosk gasped in surprise. "I didn't think you'd come."

"Anything for a friend," Krell replied, closing the door behind him. "Or at least, former friend." Vosk could see pain in Krell's black eyes. The ridges on a sireen's face make it hard to tell what they were feeling but he had known Krell long enough.

"You can't do this," Vosk breathed, looking at the carnifex pistol Krell had trained on him. "What will the Sovereignty be without a leader?"

"The Ror'char government is composed of hundreds of politicians in case any one of them were to die," Krell explained. "We are ruled by the Boards."

Vosk stiffened at this. Guess this was the end.

"Then why haven't you killed me yet?" he asked the sireen. Krell had not only walked into the tent but announced his presence.

"I want to know," the Ror'char Overlord breathed. "Why? We had a dream. You took this position, became the Sovereignty's president, because you wanted to make a difference."

"I guess you could say I woke up," Vosk said without hesitation. "Have you ever considered not everyone wants to dedicate their lives to doing stuff for others?"

"Then you should've relinquished your position!" Krell barked angrily. "Forget our friendship! What about our people?! We took an oath to hold their sake above all else! That all blood we force them to shed be for them!"

"By the blood of my ancestors, by the blood of my descendants," Vosk recited, remembering the oath all too well. "I shall shed the blood of the few for the sake of the many. But never shall I wash our hands of this blood. Nor shall I wear it with honor. I swear on my soul that darkness shall be my path to the light." Krell watched Vosk's face soften as the human remembered exactly what those words meant. "Finish it then," he said. "I won't...I can't stop myself. You need to do it for me." Vosk pulled open the drawer in the desk beside him, taking out a buzz blade, extending it into a sword and holding it in front at the ready. "I invoke trial by combat!"

The Ror'char may believe that the ends justify the means but there is one thing they hold above all else: honor. It is every Ror'char officer and troopers' greatest fear that they one day become corrupted by the absolute power they have given themselves. And, to stop this, they all adhere to a strict honor code that they follow like a religion. Krell knew this fight was just another matter of honor. It meant they would fight to the death using nothing but their buzz blades as swords. No running away, no calling for help. It was a fight to the death.

Krell holstered his carnifex pistol. It would've been easier to just shoot Vosk and end it. But the man was once his friend. He will grant his former friend an honorable death.

"Goodbye, my friend."

Vosk pointed his sword at Krell before raising it up in the air and charging at him. Krell raised his sword, ready for the strike. Vosk had been stuck behind a desk while Krell was still serving the front. After so long, it was natural for skills to wane. In a fight like this, the first instinct is to charge in and deliver the blow with all your might. And Krell was ready to counter.

Right before Vosk entered striking range Krell stepped to the side and brought his weapon down. Normally, his opponent would be cut down like wheat before a scythe but Vosk suddenly stopped right outside Krell's striking range, letting the sword fly past. Krell's eyes widened in shock and horror when he realized what had happened: it was a feint.

The moment the sword was past, Vosk rushed in and swung. Krell threw himself to the side over a rusted metal table as a last ditch effort to save himself as the buzzing blade flew past his ear. He hit the ground with a grunt, rolling back to his feet and jumping back and Vosk swung again and cleaved the surface of the table he was just laying on.

Krell had nearly forgotten. His and Vosk's fighting styles were different. Krell had always been reactionary during combat, taking care of things as they come. But Vosk was more methodical. At the beginning of a fight like this he would play defensive, try to figure out his opponent, before going in and exploiting their patterns of attack. And Krell and Vosk had sparred plenty of times before. Vosk knew how Krell fought.

Exodan paused, taking this into consideration. Vosk may know how he fought but he knew how Vosk fought too. He knew how Vosk responded to different attacks. He could take advantage of this. All he needed to do was plan out each attack and immediately respond with the appropriate counters to how Vosk would counter.

Vosk knew Krell has way more experience fighting than he did. But while the Ror'char Overlord was honing his skills, Vosk was honing his mind. Krell would probably expect the same methodical fighting style. It was how Vosk always fought, even when they sparred together. Krell would most likely do something in an attempt to lure Vosk out then attack the opening. This meant a cautiously aggressive style, attacking just enough to warrant a reaction then countering that reaction. Normally, combatants would probe their opponents several times to learn their opponent's attack patterns but Krell already knew Vosk's. But the cautiously aggressive tend to be vulnerable to pure aggression.

Krell prepared himself as Vosk suddenly launched himself over the desk in what seemed like a mindless rage, screaming as if he had suddenly become possessed. Krell stumbled backwards at Vosk's sudden onslaught. This wasn't anything what Krell expected as Vosk hacked and slashed at everything in front of him. The normal counter to this would be passive defense, retreat and counter until the attacker tires out or the defender sees and opening. But Krell wasn't ready to do that and soon found himself overwhelmed by the onslaught of attacks. Exodan found himself being pushed backwards, retreating from this room into the hallway as Vosk continued rushing in with a berserk rage, overwhelming him with strikes.

Finally, Vosk saw an opening and took it, bringing his sword down on Krell. In a last attempt to save himself, Krell brought up his left arm, parrying the sword to the side. It might've saved him but Krell could feel the buzz blade slice his prosthetic arm. He leapt back as Vosk stepped forward and slashed again. Krell jumped through an open door, the blade cutting through the door frame.

All Ror'char politicians were once part of the Ror'char military and it looks like Vosk hadn't lost his edge. Krell needed to reassess the situation.

-.-

Nova kicked down the next door and burst into the room, Chen following right behind her. This should've been another breach and clear, but something caught their eye.

"Havera!" Nova breathed, her eyes falling on their teammate. Brandon Havera, leader of Loadstone, was being held as a shield. The man behind him pointed a pistol at them, ready to shoot.

"Terra," Chen breathed, something catching his eye. "The uniform…"

"I know," Nova said, recognizing the dirtied and black uniform. It was a Ror'char officer's uniform. The man didn't wear the power armor, it must've ran out of power long ago, but he still had the same uniform. Krell did say they were after two corrupt officials. They finally found one.

"Krell couldn't even send his own tin men to kill me?" the official snarled, insulted by the fact he was seen as so low that the Ror'char didn't even bother making sure it was their own that took him out. "Tell Krell that Ademar wants a proper end, not a garbage disposal."

"I don't think so," Nova barked.

"I am a Ror'char officer! I deserve a proper end!"

"You were a Ror'char officer," Chen corrected. "Now you are just trash to be tossed out."

Chen gritted his teeth in anger. That man may not have been a slaver but he was still helping them and Chen wanted to show him a true taste of justice but it would come at the cost of Havera's life. Both of them aimed at Ademar, or at least they tried, but neither of them fired. The human behind Havera stayed behind his shield, making sure he could not get shot.

"It's over," Nova said. "Surrender and you won't be harmed."

"Surrender?" Ademar repeated. "Do you know what the Ror'char will do to me? No. I'm going to die and I'm going to die an honorable death. Now get Krell!"

"That's not happening!" Nova barked. "Put down the gun and surrender."

Ademar laughed at this demand.

"How are you going to make me? I know this man is from your little city. You do anything and I'll kill him. So who's gonna stop me?"

Suddenly, a fist blasted through the wood wall behind the Ademar, smashing into the back of his head. He and Havera were thrown forward to the ground as the wood wall was torn down like it was paper. Azoth, the giant antenok stepped through the wall, crushing the wood beneath his feet like it was plastic. The Ror'char Overlord watched as Nova rushed to check on Havera while Chen went to check on Ademar.

"Oops," Azoth said with a roll of his eyes. "I meant to say 'surrender' but my fists decided to do the talking for me."

"How long were you standing there?" Nova asked, standing up. She never thought she would ever talk to a Ror'char Overlord so casually but she was grateful that he could end the hostage crisis in a single move.

"Eh, a few minutes now," Azoth said dismissively with a shrug. "Needed to find the right opportunity. Thanks for the distraction by the way." The signs of battle were strewn all across Azoth's armor, scratches and burns from being shot countless times. All three of them had been blasted more than a couple times. This was the inevitability of fighting a force far greater in number than your own. They had less than forty troops and they faced at least a hundred slavers. Still, superior equipment and training won the day. The sound of the fighting outside had begun to die down, the gunfire replaced by people yelling orders at their prisoners.

"Havera's alive," Nova explained, she and Chen turning to face Azoth. "Hopefully the rest of Loadstone is somewhere in the market."

"Well, we're clearing the entire market," Chen remarked, not noticing the man rising from the ground behind him and Nova. Ademar may be behind those two but Azoth was facing them.

"Look out!" Azoth called out, shoving Nova behind him. The slaver aimed his pistol at the antenok and fired, the plasma bolt hitting Azoth square in the chest. He cried out in pain, the armor finally giving way, red blood exploding from his chest as he fell over. Chen whipped around but the slaver aimed and shot him right in the chest at point blank. Steven gave a pained yell but tried to aim his gun at his foe. Ademar seized his arm before the gun could line the shot, blasting Chen in the chest two more times. He gave a gargled cry before falling over.

Ademar aimed his gun at Chen's open face.

"NO!" Nova roared, ramming the Ror'char traitor backwards with her shoulder.

Her two companions down, it was up to Nova now. She aimed her SPAS-12 in Ademar's general direction and pulled the trigger, not even bothering to properly aim with the iron sights. But he had done the same. Ademar roared in pain as a burst of bullets rammed into his stomach. But a bolt of plasma hit Nova's gun, the superheated liquid igniting the gunpowder in the bullets, the weapon exploding in her hands. She screamed in pain, stumbling backwards as her hands were showered in molten metal. She tore off the gauntlets in a desperate attempt to spare her hands from the searing heat, tossing them aside. She looked at her hands, which had already started blistering. She couldn't even stop her fingers from trembling from the pain.

Nova looked up from her hands in time to see Ademar lunge at her, shoving her to the ground, his fingers wrapping around her throat. They were both injured so they were both resorting to this. She tried to reach for her knife but she could not get her fingers to grasp the handle. They were just too burned. All she could do was stare her attacker in the eye, his maniacal smile spread across his entire face.

-.-

Krell's broken mechanical hand dangled from its wrist by a few wires. This was not good. Vosk had the upper hand and that divide just got wider. Still, as a person who actually worked in the field, he knew how to use what was available to him, to turn weaknesses into strengths.

Exodan shifted his grip. He was going to have to fight one handed. His fighting ability has been cut in half but he had a secret weapon. He had to set up using it.

Vosk knew Krell was no idiot. This exchange was long enough for the Overlord to learn and adapt. It was time to change tactics again.

Vosk lunged at Krell but stopped just short of Krell, right within striking range. This wasn't the chaotic attack pattern he used before or the cautious methodical one he was used to. This style required close quarters and Krell would need several moments to adapt.

Krell leapt back, expecting the same berserk assault, but instead he fought just within striking range. He parried and blocked every strike, ready to turn tail and run at a moment's notice. He needed to create an opening to use that secret weapon. Sparks flew every time their blades clashed. Krell leapt back, or at least he pretended to. Vosk moved in but as Krell moved back forward, he swung his left hand, the metal fist flying through the air like a flail. It didn't have the mass of one but it was still a flying ball of metal. Exodan could hear the crack of Vosk's jaw being dislocated. He roared in pain as he stumbled backwards. He angrily slashed again, not at Krell but at Krell's left hand. The metal fist, wire, and part of his forearm flew through the air and clattered to the ground.

Krell knew it looked bad for him but it was actually playing in his favor. Everyone has a plan...until they get hit. Vosk's calm, calculating demeanor has just been replaced by panic. And one secret weapon had just been replaced by another. Vosk was so desperate to slice off his arm that he didn't even realize he turned the forearm into a sharpened point.

Krell had the upper hand in terms of tactics, but he was getting tired. He was still missing an arm and been playing defensive this entire time.

Exodan knew he had to end it. Vosk stepped back and raised his sword into the air. Krell did the same but lowered the sword and held it at his side. With a yell, they both charged.

"That's enough, Vosk!"

-.-

Nova clenched her hand into a fist and rammed it into Ademar's jaw, but he didn't budge. He just tightened his grip on her throat. Terra Nova's other and was feeling around for something, anything, to use as a weapon. But all she could feel were some old cardboard boxes. Didn't matter. Even if she did manage to find something it was doubtful she could even get a grip on it with how badly her hands were burned.

"Get your hands off her, you rat bastard," a voice growled. Ademar looked behind him, watching as Chen got to his hands and knees, pulling his dagger from his belt. He stared at Chen in shock. Ror'char armor was tough but he had hoped that a point blank shot like that would do the trick.

"Why won't you die?!" he cried out.

"You first!" Chen roared, hurling the blade at his enemy. Steven could hear the bone crack and shatter as the metal blade pierced Ademar's skull, the weight of the knife driving the tip even deeper. Ademar's body gave a violent jolt before finally falling over.

"Steven!" Nova gasped as she watched Chen also fall over. She crawled over to him, hovering over his semi-conscious body.

"Ow," he wheezed. He looked at Nova, his hand gently patting his wound. He could feel a trickle of blood coming out of his uniform. It wasn't life threatening but it still hurt. He was glad the adrenaline still coursing through his body had practically made him numb. Though, that didn't help the exhaustion from this long battle. "I don't suppose you'll let me just sleep here for now." A smile formed over Terra's face at this comment.

"Only if you mean literally," she chuckled.

"Hey," another voice called out. Nova looked behind her to see Azoth limping toward them. He too had survived his attack. "Don't I get a warm welcome? No 'I'm glad you survived'?"

"I'm so glad you survived," Chen said with painfully obvious sarcasm, receiving an annoyed stare from Azoth in response.

"You're the ass on her team, aren't you?"

-.-

Krell and Vosk froze there. They just froze. A buzz blade vibrates the atoms along its blade so fast that even time is affected by the sheer speed. One slash or stab will cut through flesh like a blow torch through butter.

Vosk finally collapsed to the ground. The blade had not just cut through his stomach but through his organs and even nicked his spine as well. He couldn't swing again even if he had the strength to. Krell gave a sigh. Betrayal or not, it looks like he's had to kill another friend.

Krell could hear Vosk chuckling to himself while laying on the floor, a red puddle forming beneath him.

"Well," Vosk laughed. "Guess I really botched this up." Krell finally stood up, holding his sword to the side in sadness.

"Tell me," Krell said. "You knew you had become corrupted and wished to change. Yet, you fought back against me. Why?"

Vosk chuckled at this question, blood spurting from his mouth.

"Same reason drug addicts can't stop," he replied. "You're so damn obssessed with your ideals that you don't see the night for the stars. It feels good being able to do whatever you want, the euphoria it gives you. No more concern over if I have the capacity to do something, no more worry whether taking an action will handicap me later. I could do anything I want without hesitation. I was happy. I wanted to defend my happiness. I know it's selfish of me to do it at the cost of others, but I just wanted to defend what made me happy."

"You're wrong," Krell said. "You said that this money made you happy. You're wrong about that. You think happiness comes from an object. But it doesn't anymore than an anesthetic can heal or disinfect an injury. It may numb the nerves but whatever is causing that pain is still there. Objects may temporarily fill the void but it is not happiness. Happiness is surrounding yourself with the people you care about who care about you in return, the knowledge that you are loved, that if you leave this world you will be missed. Happiness is knowing that even if you leave this world, you won't be forgotten because people want to remember you."

Vosk laughed at this statement, more blood seeping from his lips.

"What about your happiness?" Vosk asked. He gently stroked the slash across his belly. "Aren't you doing the exact opposite of that?" Krell didn't look up. He knew the answer to that question all too well as Andrea's face flashed through his mind.

"The few for the many," Krell replied. "We are not above our own ideals. If you remember, that was our dream: a universe where everyone can live in happiness."

"I remember..." Vosk said with a weak wheeze. His mind drifted back. Back to when they were younger. Krell had just joined the Ror'char space force. Vosk was still studying to be an officer. He remembered. The last president of the Sovereignty died and Vosk stepped up, vowing to make sure the Ror'char dream is fulfilled. Then he lost sight of that dream.

"Dan," Vosk wheezed. He could feel his body getting cold. The world around him was getting hazy. This was it. But he didn't want to go until he knew something. "Do you think...it's possible for a person to continue the same dream?"

Krell looked away as Vosk fell silent.

"Yes," Krell answered. "Yes I do..."

-.-

Nova's hands may have been burnt but she was fine for the most part. Chen leaned on her for support as they limped out of the building. Walking used more ab muscles than they thought. Azoth may have been injured but antenok were incredibly hardy. The fighting had died down as the last of the slavers surrendered. The Millennium forces and the Ror'char troopers had begun going around to all the cages, destroying the locks and letting out their occupants.

Nova looked in the direction of the hill, knowing Martin was watching. She knew he would have to stay there to keep an eye out but at the very least she could wave at him to signal everything was ok.

"Terra," Chen coughed. "When I get back to Millennium…can I take the day off?"

"When we get back, I think we'll all take the day off," she laughed. Azoth ignored their conversation, diverting his attention to Krell, who stepped out of a nearby building, bloody sword in hand. There was a click as the blade retracted into its handle.

"Overlord Azoth," Krell greeted, putting the oscillator blade into his coat. "Has our business been concluded?"

"Ademar has been slain," Azoth explained. "What of Vosk?"

"Dead," Krell said as if it was nothing. Former leader of the Ror'char Sovereignty, former friend of Overlord Exodan Krell, none of that truly mattered. What mattered was making sure the people were safe from his corruption. Tears can be shed later.

Krell turned his attention to Nova and Chen.

"You look no worse for wear," Krell said to the two of them, his broken prosthetic hanging limp. Seeing what happened to Krell'sharm, Nova could not help but think back to what he did to the slaver prisoner form earlier. "We found one of your friends in a nearby shack. Have you found the others?"

"We found one," Nova said. "That leaves two left." Krell gestured toward the two groups of people they had gathered outside. Freed slaves were in one group and the slavers were put in the other. Nova scanned the freed slaves but none of them were from Loadstone. She shook her head. If they were not there, then there was only one possibility as to what could have happened to them…

"So what happens now?" Chen asked.

"We had an agreement," Krell said. "You and your friends are free to go."

"What about the slaves?" Nova asked, looking at the recently freed people. She could still see the fear in their eyes. They had just spent who knows how long locked in a cage, facing the prospect of being sold, never to see their friends and family again.

"We'll try to return them to their homelands," Azoth explained. "If we can't find their home planets, then they will be allowed to find new lives among the Ror'char."

"You'd let them go back?" Chen asked in surprise.

"So they can spread the word of the glory and benevolence of the Ror'char?" Nova asked skeptically.

"No, we're doing it because they've been through hell and deserve a chance to go back to their families," Azoth said irritably.

"We'll annex their lands all in due time," Krell added. "But after going through all this, they deserve some reprieve."

Nova looked at the people again. There was one more question she wanted to ask. Though, this was one she almost felt guilty for even caring about.

"What about the slavers?" she asked. Azoth and Krell exchanged surprised glances. They knew the Millennium outlaws had a different set of morals than them but they didn't expect the outlaws to care about the sake of the slavers.

"These people have spent their entire lives profiting off the suffering of others," Krell said darkly. "We shall make sure their lives actually do some good before they die. They shall be donated to our medical facilities for experimentation. Perhaps they can help us improve our medicine."

Nova's eyes widened when she heard this. She was about to protest but Chen put a firm hand on her other shoulder. She looked at him, surprised he was ok with this. But looking into his eyes, she could see he wasn't ok with this arrangement. He just felt it wasn't their right to interfere.

"Azoth," Krell said. "I wish to speak with these two in private." Azoth gave a bow before walking off. Krell looked back at his…he wasn't sure what to refer to these people as. "I'm sorry for what happened to your other friends. But I hope this proves that though are methods are different, our goals are the same. You think there's a way to accomplish what we have without the cost, to maintain peace without control, to protect the innocent without the sacrifice, and you may be right. But until we figure out a way to do so, we must stick with the method we know works. I don't expect you to agree."

"Then what will you do with us?"

Krell paused for a moment, pacing back and forth before Nova and Chen.

"I once had a friend who was just like you. She believed there was a way to bring about peace without taking away freedom. And she may be right. But we cannot take our time experimenting. We must stick to the form of government we know works. I don't expect you to agree. As per our agreement, you and your friends may return to Millennium. The Ror'char have more pressing concerns than a band of outlaws that lack an army. Be warned: we will not let you stand in our way." He turned around and began to walk away. "Until we meet again…"

-.-

Havera and Fernandez were taken back to Millennium and spent nearly a week in the infirmary. When they finally became self aware, Nova remembered they wouldn't stop screaming for minutes, then couldn't stop crying for hours. Lieutenant Brandon Havera and Julia Fernandez both confirmed that Wu Hasaki and Robert Buck were sold as manual labor.

With this information in mind, Mercer decided to make one more deal with the Ror'char. He traded the slaver they caught for information on slave buyers. It wouldn't guarantee them finding the sold but it was a start. Nova remembered the grim expression on Osborn's face when she said they had to sedate the prisoner to stop him from injuring himself in his panicked attempts to escape when he heard about the exchange. Kara described the look in the slaver's eyes: pure fear. She also couldn't forget the stench that reeked from the interrogation room even after the cleaning crew was through washing it. Nor could she forget the betrayed look on Havera's face when he heard that the Department Heads couldn't agree on the interrogation method, which had led to them staying in that hellish slave camp longer than they had to. Havera said that Buck was sold barely an hour before they had arrived, that they could've saved him if they had just resorted to enhanced interrogation and gotten the information sooner. She couldn't erase that betrayed expression from her mind.

It had been a long few days. Normally she would've just gone to her wood shop but she didn't even feel like that. Krell's words kept repeating themselves in her head like a mantra. She soon found herself in the Treaty Room. It was Millenniums' version of Heliopolis. The center of the room sat a metal DHD-like pedestal. She knew upon touch it would display the Alliance Treaty in the Universal Language. Since it was nothing but a holographic generator and every historian and linguist had taken a picture of the treaty so the room was mostly empty now.

She sat down and leaned back against the pedestal, looking a the ceiling. Corin suspected that this was the room the Furling would observe them through. She was beginning to think he was right. She could feel them watching her. They were always watching but they were paying close attention.

"This is what you mean, isn't it," she said aloud, knowing the Furlings were listening. "This is another reason why you don't intervene." She looked up, hoping the Furlings would take her into their hallucinatory world. "You know even if you can't give us technology you could always give us guidance."

Still, nothing happened. She could feel the Furlings watching. They just chose not to do anything. And she understood why.

-.-

The night cycle had begun and the glowing nebulas around Millennium had begun to dim. Hailey knew what she was getting into when she joined the Air Force. Didn't mean she was any less rattled by combat. It's been hours and Hailey was still jittery from the adrenaline that had been in her system when she was fighting. She always found jogging to be very helpful to unwind. She made her way around the city, taking a pause to catch her breath and wipe the sweat from her forehead. She was about to get back to it when she noticed a familiar person standing on the balcony.

"Martin?" she called out. The Australian sniper turned around at the sound of his name.

"Oh, hey, Hailey," he said dully. "Couldn't sleep either?"

Jennifer walked onto the balcony to join him, taking in the view outside. The thing about Millennium was it was a city in space. And that meant the city didn't have to sit on the same plane. Whenever anyone looked out across central city, they would look down upon the outer cities built on the Millennium's arms, as if central city had been surrounded by four massive walls and cities were built on the inside of each wall. It was quite a view, especially at night.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Hailey asked, noticing Charles's glum expression. Martin gave a sigh. Outside of Wolf Pack, the Dusk Riders were his closest friends. He guessed he could confide in Jennifer.

"You know," he said. "Chen, Corin, the Major, I love 'em. Couldn't ask for a better family. But, seeing Chen and Nova be so callous..."

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't see the interrogation room," Martin muttered, the gruesome sight flashing in his mind. "Even after seeing that, they were able to say they were ok with the idea of using torture to get information out of the guy."

Charles noticed Hailey look away.

"Umar said the same thing," she explained. "He thinks we should've done it from the get go. At least Isaac backed me up."

"You think you can convince Nova?" Charles asked hopefully. "She sees you like a sister so..." Hailey looked at Martin in surprise at this new information. "She never told you that?" Hailey shook her head. All Martin could do was look away and mutter, "Oops."

"I don't think I'll be able to convince her," she said. "I heard Doc Oz talking to Chen about it. Yeah, there's no way to convince them."

"Yeah, hopefully something won't happen again," he sighed.

"Hopefully," Jenny echoed. She took a few steps back and looked down the hall. "I was gonna make another lap. Wanna join me?"

Martin looked out across the city before turning back and saying, "Eh, why the hell not?"

-.-

General Mercer gently slid the last mission report back into the stack of papers. As the leader of the expedition, he had to know every detail of the battle that had just taken place. He would evaluate the actions and reactions of each soldier, making sure they did what was expected.

"I'm surprised."

Mercer turned to face the man who had seemingly materialized out of nowhere to the left of him.

"What is it that surprises you?" Mercer asked, sitting back in his chair.

"I'm surprised you did not join in on the slaughter," the man replied in a deep distorted voice. "So the Devourer of Millions was not hungry for more souls?"

Mercer's eyes flashed as Am-heh took control again.

"Even after all this time, you still do not trust me," Am-heh said. Guess he should've figured. Tok'ra were unforgiving of the Goa'uld who ordered the deaths of millions. Unlike the System Lords, Am-heh had taken each life with his own hands.

"Even if we were to believe that you had truly changed, death is like a drug to an ashrak," the Tok'ra hissed. "They wonder if this is why you chose to accept a mass murderer as an ally."

"Soren Stavig possess wide arsenal of skills," Am-heh said. "It would be a shame to let such skills go to waste. Besides, would not an alien ally be more likely to sympathize with your cause?"

"The IOA is also unhappy with how things have proceeded," the Tok'ra interrupted, deciding to change the subject. "They question whether your acceptance of torture is truly to benefit this expedition, or just your nature showing itself."

"They may question me however much they want but so long as I have done nothing to threaten them or this Expedition, they cannot take action," Am-heh said, glancing at the Tok'ra as if to mock his position. Taking on the legendary Devourer was akin to suicide. None of them were eager to do it unless they had good reason. "What of the Tok'ra representatives?" Am-heh asked.

"What of them?"

"The IOA cannot support use of enhanced interrogation because it may tarnish their image," the Goa'uld demon explained. "However, I doubt the Tok'ra are restrained by the same pettiness. So, what have they to say about what happened?"

The Tok'ra growled in frustration, refusing to answer. But, Am-heh was adamant.

"They deem the action necessary," the Tok'ra finally said. A smile crawled across Am-heh's face. It appeared even the Tok'ra could be swayed to agree with him once and a while. "The only reason the Tok'ra have hesitated to use techniques such as Krell's was out of concern for the host. That is no longer an issue involving the slavers."

"The IOA will be very disappointed to hear that," Am-heh chuckled. "As would many members of this Expedition."

"Speaking of which, there have been reports of dissension among the expedition members," the Tok'ra explained. "It seems there is strong disagreement over the events of the past few days."

"They can disagree with my methods all they want but I am still leader of the Millennium Expedition," Am-heh commented. "So long as it does not interfere with operations, it is none of my concern."

"And if it does?"

The ashrak could feel the Tok'ra eyeing him, waiting to evaluate his reaction. Orak vu'lomn was still ready to take him out at a moment's notice. If Am-heh made one wrong move, Tok'ra assassins would descend upon him to end his life. But Am-heh didn't care.

"My first and foremost responsibility is this expedition," Am-heh said. "If I must quash the dissenting opinion then I will."

The Tok'ra scoffed at this response.

"Just like a System Lord," he spat. There was a hiss as the door opened and he walked out, leaving the old man alone in his office.

-.-

The City of Atlantis was comparable in size to Manhattan. But Millennium was comparable in size to Beijing. It meant plenty of room for the expedition, but it also meant a lot of unexplored places. In one of those unexplored halls, a cloaked figure made his way down the hall. The power to this section of the city had been minimized so that all the lights were off. The only light came through the windows of the dimming nebula around Millennium.

The door ahead of him automatically opened upon his approach, the room on the other side just as dim.

"Sir," the man said as he walked in. "I have the final mission report." He walked past the table in the center of the room, a checkered board sitting on the table. It wasn't a normal game board though. The grid was in the shape of a hexagon and seemed to have been made for five people to play chess. Four of the sides had all the chess pieces ready. The fifth had everything set except pawns. Not only that, but half the pieces on the fifth side were a different color.

The man was talking to the person who sat in front of the board as if he was trying to figure out how a person could play a five-way game of chess. He took the paper and quickly glanced it over.

"Quite the turn of events," the man said. "I'm curious to see how things will play out between the Millennium Expedition and the Ror'char from here on out."

"I hardly see the appeal between their conflict," the subordinate said boredly. "It's just the humans of Earth taking down another foe they consider a threat."

"Perhaps. But the players on both sides are quite amusing. Take Krell, for instance. Man? Or monster? He kills his dear childhood friend for speaking out against Ror'char rule, fearing her opinion will cause dissension and lead to chaos."

"It's debatable whether her words could really cause so much trouble," the subordinate remarked.

"Perhaps," his superior said with a shrug. "But that makes it so much more entertaining. Is he a monster who betrayed his childhood friend? Or is he an unsung hero who chose to bear her loss so that countless would know peace? It's not just the Ror'char. The Millennium Expedition is also ripe with entertainment. They unite because of a common cause. Now there is disorder among its ranks. Really a pity if you think about it. A situation like this should unite people. Instead, they are at each other's throats because they cannot agree on how to approach a situation.

"You seem rather amused by this."

"I'm amused by how easily this could've been avoided. People are so simplistic in how they view the world."

The subordinate gave his superior a confused look, not sure what that comment meant.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked

The man at the table stood up, a grin spreading across his face. He brushed aside the tails of his gray long coat as he made his way across the room and took a seat behind a metal desk instead, looking over the files on the laptop resting on it.

"Whenever a human finds a person or a situation, they see it as good or evil. It has to be one of those two categories. They may acknowledge some good in an evil and vice versa but, no matter what, their mind must label it one of the two. It's all just fascinating. Every conflict in Earth's history was caused by this belief, the belief that they who are righteous and morally superior must enlighten and liberate those who are not. That is why cracks have begun to form in this Expedition."

"Do you think this dissension will break the expedition?" the cloaked man asked.

"It'll certainly cause some fractures but I don't foresee any significant damage. At least not yet. For now, I just want to see how this all plays out."

-.-

Ror'char government facilities were off limits to civilians. Civilians are brainwashed and indoctrinated from childhood to hate those who challenged the government. The officials themselves and the military leaders were taught to do otherwise.

Krell still hadn't replaced his broken prosthetic. The left arm had been removed from the shoulder socket while a replacement was made. Relieved of duty until he could get his new arm, Krell decided to visit the Sacrificial Memorial. No longer in his black armor and long coat, he instead wore his off duty uniform, the left sleeve hanging loose with nothing in it. The rain was pouring from the sky. It certainly matched his mood as he made his way past the golden headstones in the green field. He gripped the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. At first glance, anyone from Earth would've thought they were white roses. But these flowers could only be found in this galaxy. He always bought these white flowers. They matched her hair.

He finally reached the headstone he was looking for. He set down the flowers right in front of the metal monument.

"Hey," Krell said. "Sorry I couldn't visit you last month. Was away on campaign. Though, you always hated those." Krell kept his eyes on the metal headstone, glad the rain was there to splatter on his face, to keep the truth hidden.

"Your husband definitely takes after you," Exodan said. "I can see all your beliefs in him, all your values."

 _"C'mon, this isn't like you."_

Krell turned around, sitting down and leaning against the headstone, careful not to sit on the flowers. He looked upon the beautiful woman. He always thought she looked her best in that simple short red dress with its white collar, pink sleeves, and open shoulders.

"I miss you, Andrea," he muttered. "So much..."

 _"C'mon Dan. All you ever talked about when you were a kid was growing up and getting strong so you can protect people. You can't cry now."_

Krell smiled at this statement. The petite woman sat down beside him. Rain and mud didn't have any affect on the imagined so she looked as pretty as he remembered her.

"Why do you do this?" Krell asked. "You know what I've done, the blood on my hands. You hated Ror'char rule and hated what I've done. You have every reason to hate me."

 _"Dan, you are the kindest and most loving person I have ever met. I hate what you've done. But I know you're not evil. I just think you're a little lost. Do you remember the last thing I said to you?"_

"You said that you forgave me," Krell said slowly. "You said that you understood why I was doing what I was about to...what I did. You told me not to hate myself for it."

 _"Everything dies, Danny. It's only when their death holds you back is it truly a tragedy."_

"I know," Exodan replied. "I sacrificed you, forced everyone who loved you to weep for you. I won't let others know the pain of losing someone too." He stood up, placing his peaked cap back on his head, adjusting it so it would shield him from the rain. Andrea stood up to to see him off.

"I can't stop everyone from crying," Krell said. "All I can do is control its number. It may never reach zero but I will take it down as low as it will go. And I will shoulder every evil in this universe to see it happen. For our absent friends. That is what is means to be an Overlord of the Ror'char."

He looked at her, staring into her blue eyes. He would reach out to caress her cheek if she was actually there.

 _"Just...just do me a favor. Don't say goodbye. I hate goodbyes."_


End file.
